


All's fair in love and War

by Samurai



Series: Loki Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Loki (Marvel), Bisexual OMC, Einherjar - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), LGBT Themes, M/F romance, M/M, Multi, Other, Protective Loki, Romance, Tattoos, m/m romance, mlm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samurai/pseuds/Samurai
Summary: Faolán is an einherjar who happens to be in love with Prince Loki which is generally frowned upon within Asgard.[For Loki Bingo 2020 - Square filled "Bed Sharing", formally titled "It Isn't Fair"] Please read Authors note in first chapter.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Loki Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932733
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31
Collections: Loki Bingo 2020-2021





	1. Original Oneshot - Sharing a Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, 
> 
> So this started out as a One-Shot Written for the 2020-21 Loki Bingo, but I had ideas and wanted to continue the story. Which I'm doing now (delayed due to COVID-19), this chapter has largely remained unchanged except the ending which you can now skip for Chapter 2. I changed the ending because I didn't like it but I wanted to keep it up just in case people just wanted to read the oneshot. 
> 
> The title was formally "It isn't fair" which I changed to "All's fair in love and War", the following chapters will not be as long as Chapter One which was originally 10,358 words so please don't expect that same length for each chapter.
> 
> I'm also on Tumblr - https://void-knights.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> I would appreciate any feedback you can give me, I do try to edit and catch all errors in my writing, but I will admit I do struggle a little with writing.

There were seven people, which is why when they were preparing for this adventure Faolán had packed seven tents and seven bedrolls. So it came as a surprise when they came to a stop for the evening that he found three tents and five bedrolls.

He counted them trice to make sure he had not lost his memory or sanity during the last fight against the hydra. No, no there were three tents and five bedrolls.

“There are four tents and two bedrolls missing,” he announced when going over the cart a third time just to make sure. The other Einherjar had all their equipment, so why was this one caravan missing key items?

Sif and Loki were the first to come up to the caravan to check that Faolán hadn’t simply overlooked four tents and two bedrolls. No, he was right they were gone.

“But we have more food than we know what to do with,” Sif said lifting a bundle meats that had been securely packaged to keep them dry and warm but not overcooked.

“And alcohol,” Loki realized lifting a smallish barrel of mead, the trio turned to the other three. Hogun and Fandral stepped away from Thor and Volstagg, of course.

“We can ask the Einherjar to give up a couple of tents and share with their comrades,” Fandral suggested, that seemed an acceptable answer to Thor and the warriors three.

Faolán rolled his eyes, of course they would be _that_ inconsiderate.

“Brother, you are already dealing with a morale problem amongst the guard do not make the situation worse,” Loki sighed rubbing at his temple, he had been looking forward to a good nights rest.

“I don’t know why you are complaining Loki,” Thor wrinkled his nose, “You should have a tent and bed squirrelled away.”

That was a good point, both Sif and Faolán turned to the younger prince who was not pleased to admit that he assumed that a tent at least would be easy not to lose so no, he had not packed one in his pocket dimension.

“Yet you packed a more than one cape?” Sif asked him, the fresh cape had become muddy as well but at least this one was not weighed down like Thor’s.

Faolán hopped off the back of the caravan, “Then there is only one solution,” He announced to the group, cursing his luck for having selected for escorting the royal party.

Sif quickly caught on, “I am the only woman here, I am not sharing with anyone,” She put her foot down. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friends, it was that she just did not want to share with any of them, previous experiences had left lasting impressions.

“If Prince Loki-” Faolán began but of course Loki had issues with the idea that he’d not even been allowed to finish.

“I am not shapeshifting into my female form just to appease Lady Sif,” Loki barked, oddly touched that Faolán would even suggest such a thing. Usually warriors would rather not remember that Loki shifted between whatever gender and sex he wanted whenever the mood struck. Besides, Sif had her own terrible sleeping habits.

A round of arguments that lasted an hour, (enough time for Faolán to cook, be mocked by his fellow einherjar when he escaped for a reprieve and clean his armour and weapons,) ended with Hogun suggested the democratic process of drawing out rune stones from a bag.

“If your stone matches you share a tent,” the usually silent man said holding out a brown leather bag.

“There are three tents,” Fandral quickly pointed out, as though they had all suddenly forgotten the issue at hand.

“Three tents, three matching sets of stones, two Halaz, two Sowilō, three Laguz,” Hogun announced.

Meaning that two tents would be divided amongst four people while one tent would be shared between three people.

Thor and Loki went first, Thor drew Laguz much to his annoyance while Loki drew Halaz, Sif and Volstagg went next both drew Sowilō, Faolán dipped his hand in and pulled out the matching Halaz leaving Fandral and Hogun with Laguz and Thor.

“Best two out of three?” Fandral hoped.

Faolán being cursed with a rather soft heart almost agreed to the idea, until the younger prince grabbed his blue cloak and pulled the Asgardian warrior away from the Vanir.

Sif had to agree of the bunch Volstagg was the better draw.

Though she _may_ have preferred Thor to herself and Volstagg being the largest of them meant less space for her she was simply grateful not to have Fandral with his roaming hands and quips, Or Hogun and his tense silence, or Loki and his constant need to pamper himself.

Loki knew this, that is why he had charmed the bag, Volstagg being married with a dozen children was the safest draw for Sif who would embarrass herself should she be partnered with Thor. Hogun was much too grim for the younger prince, he would be the perfect counter to Fandral and Thor who tended to be inconsiderate bedmates.

Faolán was the wild card, polite and respectful of status and boundaries he had shown himself to be kind and considerate to those around him. Loki settled on him.

“The next time we pass a town or village we should try to resolve this shortage issue,” Faolán wisely suggested much to the agreement of everyone else.

“But that still leaves us two bedrolls short,” Volstagg said, Sif was quick to claim herself one and Volstagg a second, leaving three bedrolls.

“I can sleep on the ground,” Faolán offered, leaving the other four to squabble amongst themselves over who should have a bedroll, he did not want to get in between two princes and two Vanir Lords.

It was safer to just put up with not having a bed for the night, even if it was chilly and the ground was hard with the days frost.

With a resound sigh he set to work putting up the tent making sure that everything was safe and secure, meanwhile in the background Thor and Loki were shouting at each other with increasing volume. The _one_ benefit of travelling with the royal party meant that he could at least sleep on the ground in a luxurious tent.

The tents the Einherjar were provided weren’t always the best, some had been used so many times they had developed holes and patches that never seemed to dry. This tent was new, he could tell, it was large to, big enough outmatch the size of his room in the barracks.

Rubbing at the back of his neck (as best he could in full plate armour) Faolán sighed heavily, this was going to be long night. It wasn’t going to be easy sharing with the younger prince, he had admired Loki for so long that he was sure his smallish attraction boarded on a little obsessive at times.

It was best to just ignore what was happening tonight and hope the next town had tents for purchase. Removing his helmet he set it aside in one corner. Just as he began removing the rest of of his plate armour Loki marched into the tent looking annoyed.

He had managed to claim a single bedroll for himself, he glanced around the space provided annoyed, “Remind me to construct a tent when we return to the palace,” he snapped tossing the bedroll onto the ground.

“Yes sir,” Faolán said clearly as training demanded, he kept his back to the prince afraid of what he may or may not see as he stripped off his vambraces. He could sleep in his under armour, the cloth and leather would protect him against the cold.

As quickly and quietly as he could he arranged his armour in a manner that would not take up to much space. Perhaps he should have wished to have drawn Lady Sif instead, at least they were of equal social standing.

Settling himself on the covered ground Faolán could feel the cold of the frost outside seep into the fabric that acted as their floor. He shook off that chill as best he could by using his cloak to create a thin barrier between himself and the ground.

He had slept in worse conditions, heats that bordered on torture, bogs that stank with decay, this was nothing. Or it would be nothing if Prince Loki wasn’t sat on his bedroll studying Faolán who was starting to itch at the attention. Nervously so not to appear concerned he turned to the prince who rather than look away like most would narrowed his eyes at Faolán.

“Is there something wrong my prince?” He asked nervous that somehow he had managed to offend Loki without trying.

Thin lips pressed into an even thinner line, as though there was something on Loki’s mind though he did not know how to say it. Rather unusual for the silver tongued prince who could talk himself out of a room with no doors or windows.

He really was quite lovely to look at, Faolán realizing he was staring turned his focus to the tent’s roof, outside Thor and his friends were squabbling about something that didn’t seem all that important. He closed his eyes hoping to shut out that feeling of Loki’s continued staring.

Thankfully the prince put out the lamps, with a flick of his wrist the lights died down and soon he settled down into his bedroll. Easy. Simple. That was that.

Faolán shivered. The night was long and the winter never waned in its desire to see him chilled to the bone.

* * *

The next morning Faolán woke with an ache that had settled deep into his bones, as though rime itself covered them. He shivered while Prince Loki stretched himself looking rather refreshed and ready to face the day.

Back in his armour they set off towards the next town, they would need to investigate the town before moving on, which gave them time to look around for an extra tent or bedroll at least.

Sadly the moment they entered the farming town Faolán had a feeling deep in his bones that they would not find what they needed, his fears were confirmed when the warriors three and Sif failed to anyone. What did they expect when coming to this small farming town?

While investigating with his fellow Einherjar Faolán tried to shake off the cold that had settled within him, “Why are you shaking like that?” a guard asked him.

“Prince Thor and his Vanir companions thought it would be good idea to pack more food and mead, they made space by discarding two bedrolls and three four tents,” Faolán complained shivering inside his armour.

Somehow even the sun was cold.

He caught up with the royal party in a tavern when the sun had long since set, why did they pack the additional food and drink if they could have stopped at a tavern? He tried not to be bitter as the rest of the party enjoyed themselves, he focused on warming himself up.

It felt as though a jötunn had managed to push ice into his body leaving him brittle and cursed never to feel the warmth of fire or sun again. Steadying his grip upon his mead he tried to ignore the pang of pain as the cold beverage hit him, even the warmth of the food – as basic as it was, it was filling – did not do a good enough job.

“You would think the locals would be honoured to give their beds to their princes!” Thor complained loudly.

Much to his chagrin Loki reminded his brother that this was supposed to be a show that the royal house cared about the people. He was not boosting confidence nor morale by shouting such complaints to a small town that had given them hospitality.

Thor stopped complaining about _that_ at least and instead turned his attentions to their lack of progress in this investigation. As the conversation around the table grew more heavy Faolán listened, fascinated, it was less a discussion and more of a debate.

In an attempt to still his shaking hands Faolán clasped them together, he could not recall the last time he had been so cold. When the option presented itself he went to the bar to request more drinks, the others were relieved not to have to go.

He was simply relieved not to have to spend too much time around them as their discussion delved into bickering and debates over which bar maid Fandral and Thor were eyeing up. Of course many of the maids had their eye on the older prince and dashing Vanir.

“What’ll it be love?” The woman behind the bar, a much older woman with greying red hair and a sunny but dangerous grin greeted him.

“The royal table is requesting refills, two pitchers of mead,” Faolán said rubbing his hands together.

The woman studied his hands as she had someone else fulfil the order, making sure to add a third pitcher for good measure. “You seem a tad cold lad, the others have not shared the same fate as you.”

“I am fine,” Faolán lied.

“Hm,” The woman was not convinced, “Then you shall have a warm drink and not complain will you?” he wouldn’t, he thanked her after paying for the warmed apple cider complete with spices from Alfheim. “You should watch yourself lad, the rot will set in if you stay cold for to long.”

That was an old wives tale, something shared in ignorance, it was more likely he could curdle milk by staring into the jug.

“Ah, your highness, how may I serve you?” Faolán froze (not literally of course though he still felt frozen) and turned to see Prince Loki stood beside him. How had he not noticed the prince approaching and coming to stand beside him?

“My brother wishes to know if you have more of those… pork things,” he twisted his face into a grimace.

“Ah the pork cracklings yes, I shall have a maid send more to his table,” The woman nodded while Faolán focused on finishing his heated drink.

It had helped, being inside a warm tavern that was packed to the brim with bodies helped as well, but the drink helped chase away some of the internal chill.

The short walk back to the tents undid most of the work, with final security checks completed for the evening Faolán collapsed back onto the ground. He almost wanted to cry at the chill that happily seeped its way back into his bones. There was a moment where he considered donning his armour once again, anything to have additional layers between him and the cold.

Outside the tent several voices were bickering, he recognized most of them, but the ones he did not meant he had to go and investigate. His armour back on he found himself face to face with Prince Thor, the warriors Three and a small group of nervous but furious locals.

Apparently Thor and Fandral had managed to talk a few local girls to returning to their tents, which was not unusual what was unusual was the furious locals. Half a dozen men did not like the idea of their sisters and daughters cavorting with the Prince and Vanir, though they never said it out loud, instead basing it on worried family and friends.

The winter was a dangerous season to be walking about in, Thor and Fandral conceded that perhaps it was best not to further antagonize the locals which meant Faolán was left escorting the towns folk back to their homes to ensure that nothing would befall them.

He could do nothing but offer polite apologizes, though he could not apologize on the princes behalf he could at least try and keep people happy by apologizing. The men sighed, understanding that this was not Faolán’s fault, the women were less pleased about being pushed and pulled about. The distant howl of wolves and the darkness of winter squashed some of those grievances, from a purely practical standpoint it had been rather foolish to sneak off in the dead of winter.

Once the last family were safely escorted back to their warm home Faolán began the long walk to the tents. It was long past any reasonable hour, the moons light dimmed by the cloud and forest cover meant that most of his walk was done in dimmed darkness, the torch he had barely served him.

The rest of the group had retreated into their tents by the time Faolán returned, he considered entering the tent. But then he felt an odd restricting feeling overcome him and settle deep in his gut, he couldn’t just barge in especially if _Prince_ Loki was sleeping. He would not be proper.

Sitting himself on a nearby rock he huddled in his armour, he had slept through worse, he could manage one more cold night. He would just need to be me much more careful tomorrow.

“What are you doing?” Faolán was either too exhausted, cold or beyond reason, because he did not jump when the voice of Prince Loki sounded behind quietly.

He slid off the boulder he’d found and tried to think up of an excuse, the truth was the best policy with the god of lies. “I did not wish to disturb you, your highness,” He said trying not to shiver when the god narrowed his emerald eyes at him as if seeking out an unspoken truth.

Loki however rolled his eyes, “You warriors,” it sounded like a rebuke, one well-earned given Faolán’s current situation.

He was about to offer some sort of protest when the prince grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him into the tent. It was somehow warmer outside on that boulder than on the cold hard ground, probably because he had been forced to strip out of his armour. This time he used his cloak as a blanket and tried to stave off the chill by curling up into himself.

They should be able to purchase blankets, a rug, something, he would check in on the town come the morning before they had the chance to set off.

“Must you be so stubborn?” Loki demanded causing Faolán to stiffen in fear, now what had he done to offend the prince? He tried running through all his thoughts, nothing came to his mind.

Before he could offer up any sort of explanation there was a blanket draped over him, it was surprisingly warm. Within the fibres of the fabric he could feel some sort of energy, the prince must have enchanted the material. He turned around, remembering the prince using this the previous night over his bedroll.

He couldn’t accept the generous gift, he grabbed the blanket and draped it over the confused Prince, confusion gave away to annoyance which turned to resignation. As though he had expected Faolán to reject his offering.

It dawned on Faolán rather quickly, the magic, the enchantment, perhaps that is why the prince thought he was rejecting the gift? So few in the Einherjar were overly comfortable with magic, some would go so far as to reject any sort of magic that could not be contained in a box, bottle, piece of tech or used by a female healer.

“It is a generous gift your highness, but I cannot risk you suffering from the cold,” Faolán responded taking his place back on the floor. He stared at the ceiling hoping sleep would not evade him to long. The blanket had been nice though.

“You are a spectacular kind of idiot aren’t you?” Loki said.

“Well if I must be an idiot I’m glad I’m a shining beacon of idiocy,” Faolán muttered without thinking. He clamped his mouth shut, keenly aware of the odd silence that filled the tent.

“I did not say shining beacon, merely that as idiots go, you are by far the most stubborn I have met,” The prince retorted.

The cold must have affected his brain because why else would Faolán respond, “But you _did_ call me outstanding.”

“Fool,” Loki snapped tossing the blanket back at Faolán, “If you die of rime rot do not curse me in Valhalla.”

“Should I return as a draugr and curse you that way, your highness?” yep, the frost had damaged him.

“Do not jest about such things,” Loki huffed before shivering and returning to his bedroll. Faolán knew from experience that bedrolls did a good job at keeping people warm, but this cold was not something one usually camped in. Kneeling beside the prince he once again returned the blanket to Loki who stared at him.

“The gesture is appreciated my prince,” Faolán said, “But your health and safety are far more important,” he added but that did not stop Loki from staring at Faolán from within his bedroll, he did not dare say how adorable he looked wrapped up like that.

Loki wanted to club some sense into the foolish solider, instead he grabbed the man and pulled him down before he could protest. Faolán was an asgardian male was strong, Loki as a god was stronger, somehow Faolán ended up wrangled onto the bedroll which had been spread out on the ground and beneath the blanket.

“Move and I shall have you executed,” The prince threatened Faolán who was deeply grateful he was face down on the upper half of the spread out bedroll. Loki could not see him blushing. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” Faolán said his voice muffled but at least Loki could understand what he had said.

His body warmed beneath the enchanted blanket, with warm layers between himself and the floor of the tent it helped chase away the chill that had infested his bones. Still, he shivered as his body slowly warmed itself.

Once he thought it was safe he chanced a peak at the prince, who of course was awake and glanced at Faolán at that exact moment. He didn’t know how to respond to that, still aware that he was blushing he tried to bury his face once again.

He could hear the rumbling from the prince before he broke out into a quiet laughter, “Does this offend your masculine pride solider?” he mocked.

That was a rather loaded question coming from the younger prince.

It was no secret that he was openly mocked and teased for his abilities, both magical and shapeshifting. He was not as… well he did not live up the perfect ideal of a warrior, the slender sorcerer-warrior was someone a warrior like Faolán should not admire, let alone have an attraction towards.

To have an interest in another man like that would open Faolán up to the same mockery. It was rather fortunate that he was also attracted to women, he could not imagine how other soldiers might suffer under the pressure of only being attracted to men.

“I would rather think I should be offended at myself, had I been a better solider I might have found a way to counter your ambush,” Faolán replied as he shifted onto his back, an ache settled itself in his body as it warmed, it was not completely unpleasant.

Loki’s lips twisted into something that could almost be amusement, “A cautious response,” he replied, “Perhaps you are not as foolish as I thought you to be.”

“Oh, I’m sure the opportunity for me to make a fool of myself will present itself before long, your highness,” Faolán answered politely.

To his surprise Loki laughed, a genuine sort of laugh causing the prince to light up in amusement and Faolán to stare. He was rather attractive when he laughed, the skin around his eyes crinkled, his eyes lit up brighter than ever, that hostile air seemed to vanish as something warmer settled within the prince.

He was never prepared for how beautiful the prince was, Faolán shifted pleased with himself for causing Loki to laugh but uncomfortable with how his dick _now_ decided to make itself known within his trousers. The cold would prevent this sort of issue.

It would sort itself out before long, he just needed to keep thinking of unpleasant thing, being stuck in freezing mud, the smell of pigs left out in the sun, taxes, that sort of thing.

Waking up warm and refreshed was a nice change from cold and stiff, only he suddenly became very aware of the body pressed up against his back and the arms around his waist. Faolán could not move, his legs were tangled up in the princes.

Already his mind was racing with a thousand possibilities and none of them matched his fantasies, instead all he could worry about was whether the prince would be angry. This was a dire breach of protocol. He could think of a dozen legitimate reasons that the prince could use to have him reprimanded, expelled from the guard or worse.

To many fears ran through him until Loki said, “You began to shiver in your sleep, this was the best way to keep you warm,” Loki’s breath was warm against the back of his neck.

_Norns_ , he couldn't blame his dick for stirring _this time_ he just wished it didn’t, this was not the ideal time or place.

Suppressing his nerves as best he could Faolán responded, “Thank you, but you needn’t have gone to such trouble for me,” even to his own ears it sounded odd. Why would anyone say such a thing?

Thankfully any weirdness (of which there was plenty) vanished the moment a loud scuffle and shouting erupted outside the tents.

It turned out to be Thor and his friends all fighting over the last of the provisions. Which seemed odd to Faolán as the only reason they were sharing tents and beds in the first place was because the older prince and his friends had replaced the necessities with additional food and drink supplies.

“Even Volstagg could not have consumed our stocks overnight,” Loki pointed out inspecting the area, Faolán squatted down to pick up the remains of the cloth sacks, they had been shredded.

“Wild boar,” Faolán said indicating to the tracks not that the rest of the group cared to see, instead they would rather fight amongst themselves.

“Yes he can resemble a boar at times,” Loki folded his arms across his chest, how was he not cold in so few garments? “Though a boar does possess far more manners than our Vanir.”

“How about I cleave that tongue from your venomous mouth?” Volstagg snarled at Loki, this of course lead to further bickering so Faolán used his common sense and left to procure more supplies, enough to make a decent breakfast at least.

The other Einherjar took pity on him, patting him on the back, this was the reason nobody wanted to be the personal guard and escort of the princes. This is the reason they had to draw lots. Oh, it was easy and a well sought out position once inside the golden city but never outside. Everyone knew that the princes rarely made things easier for themselves let alone their assigned guard. How does someone go about protecting a god who can shapeshift into a fly or one who can fly with a swing of his hammer?

It was only when he began making breakfast did the others cease their arguments, looking at him like he had been the one to steal from them or at least was acting very odd.

“Wild boar that had not been able to hibernate had made off without supplies,” Faolán explained, once again pointing to the tracks this time people took notice, “The additional food stocks must have attracted them.”

“And the cider?” Lady Sif asked.

“Swine in general eat fermented fruits, an apple is an apple regardless of form,” Faolán explained.

“Or my brother decided to drink the last of it the previous evening before drinking at the taverns,” Loki also added.

“That… might be the more plausible answer,” Thor admitted sheepishly.

While the others got themselves cleaned up and dressed Faolán made stew, it was simple but it stuck to the ribs and filled the belly that would keep the party filled and warmed for a while at least. Even if they complained about the basic meal. He had just enough confidence in his cooking skills to offer it up to the others.

Volstagg thanked him with a cheery smile that made him feel better about spending two hours in the cold cooking. Fandral and Thor were to hungover to muster much of anything while Sif, Loki and Hogun offered a polite “Thank You”.

He sat a little distance away from the others annoyed at himself for not securing the caravan better. He should have known better, basic training covered these sorts of incidences. Angrily chewing a carrot he looked over the plans for the next couple of days, more investigations, more travelling between towns and villages and hopefully a return to the city by the end of the month, _if_ fortune favoured them.

There wasn’t much stew left for Faolán once he had made sure the others got more than enough food to eat, the supplies had been limited after all. Not that the others noticed, not that he wanted them to notice, he could try and procure more rations in the next town or try and hunt a couple of rabbits. The way this group ate they needed all the rations they could get their hands on.

They soon packed up their camp (with help from Loki’s magic) and walked on to the next town. As they walked they went over the findings, well Faolán mostly listened in on the sporadic mentions of their investigation before Prince Thor got bored and started talking about anything else to pass the time.

Chancing glances towards Prince Loki Faolán tried not to attract too much attention to himself as they continued their march. He suspected Loki noticed a couple of times, though he said nothing about it, why would he?

* * *

The next town was another dedicated fishing town located on the edge of the realm, complete with market and merchants and freezing cold winds. Shuddering in his armour Faolán cursed the winter gods and the air for being so bloody vicious. Even the full face plate helmet didn’t help, if anything it made things worse thanks to the wind seeping into every available opening.

Meeting up with the other guard Faolán went over their notes, so far the raiders seemed one step ahead, but in this climate that wasn’t to surprising. A small group were easier and faster to move than a large group. His captain asked if he needed to change, give someone else the opportunity to watch the princes and while he was tempted one glance around the tent all but confirmed nobody else wanted his job.

“No sir, I am managing fine,” aside from being hungry, exhausted and once again cold, his Captain nodded and sent Faolán along to rendezvous with the Princes group.

It was a short meeting, dull to the princes, but they at least paid attention and listened to everything the Einherjar had uncovered, they to had made some headway so while the group stopped off at a tavern Faolán relayed this information with his Captain.

“You’re looking exhausted,” His Captain said quietly.

“Can you blame me?” Faolán joked but his Captain was not pleased with this response. An exhausted Einherjar was a danger to not only himself but his fellow guard and most importantly of all those that he was meant to protect, “I am fine Captain, I would say so otherwise.”

If any hopes of finding a meal presented themselves they were soon dashed by Prince Thor exiting the Tavern and greeting him with an overly cheerful grin announcing that they were to retire for the night. The cold seaside town seemed to mock Faolán as once again he was forced to follow the princes out to the tents.

Maybe the next town will have a good place to rest, one that would give him a reprieve from the icy tents. That small flicker of hope kept him going as he watched the group argue amongst themselves about a matter that didn’t seem all that important. Apparently one of the bar maids had taken a fancy to Sif, though she denied it her cheeks did bloom with a potential confirmation.

“I will remain in the town a while longer,” Prince Loki announced confusing the group and Faolán.

The Captain sighed, “I can spare some guards to-”

“-This one will do,” Loki clasped his hand on Faolán’s shoulder, “You and your men can return to camp.”

The Captain was one of those men that did not like Loki for what he was, he felt the younger prince was a stain upon Odin’s ‘good’ name. A thing that did not belong amongst the royal house, Loki however was Odin’s son and therefore belonged no matter who or what he was.

Faolán tried not to get in-between his Captain, who stared at Faolán as if he would protest to Loki’s suggestion, (after all why would _he_ want to spend time with the younger prince over the older) and Prince Loki who waited for the Captain’s answer.

“As you say, your highness,” The Captain bowed and departed with the others.

Once enough distance was made by the two groups Faolán turned to Loki a little concerned, had he decided to reprimand him after all? “You have not eaten all day,” was not what he expected the prince to say, “Let us eat in _some_ modicum of peace.”

“I hate seafood, especially fish pie,” he should not snub food, he really shouldn’t, especially when it was offered to him by a prince but the idea of eating seafood turned his stomach.

“Then you at least have decent taste, they add whole boiled eggs to their fish pies here,” Just a simple mention turned Faolán’s stomach.

The prince found a smaller tavern, the one that they had not yet visited, it was right on the edge overlooking the oceans and void of space, not that the incredible sights could be seen from within the small tavern with the stain glass window and ridiculously thick stone walls.

A place by the fireside was opened up for the prince (and his guard) and while he felt guilty about taking what was the best seat in the place (as far as he was concerned) Faolán was selfish enough to enjoy it.

“You are overly considerate of everyone else,” was Loki’s first words and Faolán did not know what to say to that, “For instance I could sit here and eat a full-course meal by myself, which by Asgardian royal standards is seven whole courses and you would not say a word.”

Faolán did not know where Loki was going with this line of questioning and quite frankly he was too exhausted to be overly cautious of the potential traps, so he kept things simple, “It would be improper of me to dine with you, your highness.”

“Because of our differing social standings?” Loki asked watching as Faolán sipped his heated cider, the one that he liked rather than the one made with berries that he despised.

With a slight nod Faolán responded, “Yes sir, that and the fact that I am on duty until both you and Prince Thor retire for the evening.”

“You barely ate this morning,” Loki pointed out, “I noticed you made sure everyone had more than their fair share leaving you with what could not have been more than a couple of mouthfuls of stew.”

Again Faolán tensed, “I could not leave you, Prince Thor and his friends-”

“-Yes you could,” Loki leaned back lit by the light of the fire he was quite breathtaking, not that he wasn’t beautiful or handsome already but the warmth of the fire brought out the deepest greens of his eyes.

Faolán ducked his head, “Forgive me Sir but I could not, my duty means keeping you, Prince Thor and his friends safe, that includes making sure provisions are kept safe and secure. A task I failed to do as evidenced by the boars making off with our provisions.”

For a few moments Loki was silent, giving him time to study Faolán, the odd guard with the strange mannerisms. Most guards would jump at the chance to be amongst Prince Thor’s group, but this guard seemed less inclined towards Thor and more inclined to _him_. Which was especially odd for a seasoned guard and warrior, most did not like Loki let alone want to spend any time with him.

He suspected the younger warrior harboured something that was more than a passing interest or fancy.

Too many moments of silence passed between them forcing Faolán to look up, nervous that he had probably done something wrong. Loki studied him, he was average as warriors went, brown hair and matching eyes, tanned skin even in the dead of winter and oddly the man seemed to smell of elderflower, something he had picked up on this morning.

“Will you be reprimanded for the lost supplies?” Loki asked as their food arrived, the prince already knew the answer to that question and it was,

“Yes,” Loki who had been about to take a bite of his game pie paused, studying Faolán confused, the answer was No, it should be no.

What guard would report the matter when it was easily ignored? Thor certainly would not have the guard punished for something that was out of his control, he was overly fond of the guards in general. It must be a warrior thing.

“No, the answer should be No, you made one mistake, in the days you have travelled with us you have given up enough to ensure that our party remain safe and warm,” Loki said.

Faolán of course refused to eat with him, so he stared at his plate, “I already reported the matter to my Captain, your highness. The appropriate measures will be taken upon our return to the city.”

“Eat,” and for good measure added, “That is an order,” Faolán was at first awkward about the issue but gave into his hunger, “And what are the appropriate measures?” he asked.

Faolán paused just as he was about to take the first bite of pie, “The appropriate measures vary depending upon who I am guarding at the time. Since I was guarding a royal party it will at least mean suspension without pay pending a review of my failings, your highness.”

The realization sat like a heavy stone in the bottom of Faolán’s gut, reminding him what a stupid man he was to have overlooked something so innocuous but important.

“And the harshest punishment?” Loki asked.

“I would be dishonourably discharged for dereliction of duties,” Faolán said.

Loki paused, surprised, “Surely it would not come to that for something so simple?” suspension alone seemed like overkill to him.

“It is more likely that… _that_ is the punishment I shall receive your highness,” Faolán answered, “I failed to secure supplies for the royal party, thus – especially in this season – opening you up to potential hunger and starvation, which should we be ambushed would mean you would have a lack of energy to defend yourselves. It was my own oversight and negligence that lead to the loss of the food… I am sorry for failing in my duty to protect you and your brother, sir.”

Faolán was no longer hungry, the weight had only made him feel nauseous, centuries of hard work, battles and war and this is how it ended.

“You should have lied,” Loki said cutting up a piece of carrot to eat, Faolán frowned.

“I mean no offence to you, my prince, but I would rather be honest,” Loki was not offended, more amused that Faolán might think he could offended by such a simple thing, “Besides if had I not reported the incident someone else would have done so.”

“Ah so you have enemies within the Einherjar?” Loki asked.

“None that I am aware of,” Faolán’s answer baffled the prince, “It is no secret that the Captain is due to retirement, so of course the race to be noticed for promotion has been a long one. One that has resorted to many underhand tricks and schemes.”

Loki smirked, “Ah politics then, which would imply by your very words that you are in fact a strong contender in becoming a Captain,” Loki chewed his piece of rabbit thoughtfully, “Which would explain why you were selected to guard us?”

Faolán sighed, “Yes sir, I am a strong contender but there are at least a dozen others just as strong as me, then of course there is still time for those not yet noticed to become noticed. My suspension or discharge would mean a place in that running opens up.”

“You would be forced to drop out of running for the captaincy regardless of what the outcome is?” Loki asked.

“Yes sir,” Faolán nodded, trying a piece of rabbit, his appetite once again getting the better of him, he managed a few more bites, carefully taking his time.

“A lie would have been preferable,” Loki continued, Faolán once again frowned.

“Perhaps I am not cut out for the role of Captain if that is the case,” Loki looked up surprised, “My mother says that I am cursed with an honest disposition.”

“I, too, curse honesty,” Loki said sipping his own warmed cider, he was surprised how nice it tasted alongside his food. “So you are to be dishonourably discharged then what?”

“Should the charge be deemed worthy of further punishment I will be sentenced to whatever timespan high royal highness deems enough within the prisons,” Faolán said.

“All for two sacks of vegetables, hams and one sack of salt?” Loki demanded.

“It is not the items that were lost, it is my negligence of duties on trail,” Faolán ducked his head ashamed that he was even permitted to eat with Loki especially with the upcoming future.

“The deck is stacked against you, you are punished for honesty,” Loki said.

Faolán didn’t agree with that, “It is to protect-”

“-It is politics, plain and simple, and _you_ my naive fool are all too happy to be a scapegoat! No doubt someone with family connections to the previous captain will be elected in your place,” Loki’s harsh words cut deep.

Faolán instead chewed a piece of carrot and remained silent, what else was there to be said?

The return to camp was fairly short, giving Faolán the chance to clear his head before turning in for the evening. After doing a final perimeter check and meeting up with the night guard to ensure all was safe and secure. One gave him a solemn pat on the back, news had travelled then.

He lay on the cold hard floor of the tent, his eyes turned to the ceiling of the darkened tent, “You are impossibly stubborn,” Loki said, Faolán turned to him confused, before he could argue he was once again pulled onto the spread out bedroll, only this time there seemed to be more padding. More blankets, a heavier blanket covered the pair of them.

“I… you purchased more blankets?” Faolán asked surprised he would do such a thing, if that were the case did they need to share a bedroll? Probably not, but he was not about to complain.

“No I conjured them from thin air,” Loki sarcastically uttered, usually people responded with wide-eyed awe or fear and asked ‘ _really?_ ’

Faolán surprised him by saying, “That is impossible, something cannot be produced from nothing.”

“And what would you know of magic?” Loki asked.

“They teach us how to read,” Faolán muttered trying not to blush as he focused on a particular spot above him, the details had been lost in the dark, “I can even count.”

Loki grinned, “Well I am shocked, usually they leave that sort of higher education until you are ready to become a commander,” To Loki’s pleasant supply he managed to glean a rumble of laughter from the warrior, “Any other useful talents you may possess?”

“Aside from curling my tongue, none that I can think of,” Faolán of course had many talents, being such a long-lived being meant he had time to study and expand his talents and skills, but that would only bore Loki.

“Pardon?” Loki asked turning his head towards the warrior who immediately looked away the moment he turned his head to face the prince, _ah so not just a passing interest then_ , his cheeks were ruby red.

“Uh, curl your tongue, you know?” he did not, so much to his embarrassment he demonstrated the process.

As soon as he turned away Loki tried it, he found he couldn’t do it, he could do many things with his tongue but apparently curling it was not an option. He caught Faolán snickering, _ah, so_ he had been noticed.

“It is regretful that you have been put in this position,” Loki said which surprised Faolán, “You are not the worst bed companion I have had.”

_That did the trick_.

Faolán visibly stiffened, his entire face burning hot enough to keep the pair of them warm. “I-I um, you…” his stuttering was rather adorable to Loki who watched in amusement as Faolán tried to pretend that he was not flustered by Loki’s comment. Sense came back to Faolán who turned to the prince and asked, “Dare I ask who could be worse?”

“A rather fetching Lady who for some reason genuinely believed that I was sexually attracted to horses, so she dressed up as one and waited for me in my bed,” Loki said.

Faolán didn’t know whether that was the truth or a fabrication, it sounded like a lie but at the same time too strange to not be true, but the mental image made him laugh anyway much to Loki’s delight. The man had a rather attractive laugh when he wasn’t being a dour guard half freezing and starving to death.

At least that night was better than the previous nights, even with his impending punishment looming on the horizon.

* * *

Three days and nights spent on the roads walking to the next town while investigating the routes along the way had completely exhausted everyone.

Not because of the freezing biting winds, but because they had quite by accident run into the raiders that they had been pursuing. They were not the criminal masterminds the Einherjar commander made them out to be, rather they were just lucky. Ridiculously lucky, so lucky it could only be divine intervention.

It was not a good fight, fought in the hard cold muddy forest roads it was pure chaos. There was not a soul (not even a god) that was not left exhausted and aching by the end. Faolán was certain that he had somehow managed to break a couple of ribs, he certainly was bruised.

Thankfully the large merchant town they had just passed had some places to rest and recuperate. Though Faolán firmly believed that they would not have been given (for a fair price of course) these rooms had the princes not been with them. The rooms spread out across multiple inns were few forcing people to share once more.

The familiar sense of dread filled Faolán as he watched everyone follow that exact same routine they had taken when first sharing the tents. Hogun dropped rune stones into a bag which the others grabbed in hopes of getting a much better companion this time around.

Sif this time had to share with Hogun instead of Volstagg, this left Fandral worried he _might_ have to partner with Thor _and_ Volstagg, that much body mass would crush him. (There was no way any of them would sleep on the floor) Then Loki pulled out a runestone matching not Fandral’s, but Thor and Volstagg’s did. Faolán swore he could hear a whimper come from the blond Vanir.

That meant once again Faolán was sharing with Loki, this time Faolán was suspicious, “Why do you get the guard, _again_?” Sif asked, which hurt he thought they at least bothered to learn his name after spending so much time together on the road.

“Luck was on my side it seems,” Loki preened.

“Luck or trickery, lets do this again and this time no magic!” Sif warned Loki.

“You would risk sharing a bed with Volstagg _and_ Thor?” Hogun countered quietly while the other three bickered about who slept in which position on the bed. Fandral refused to be in the middle.

“Or Volstagg again?” Loki offered up. Sif’s expression said it all, as cheerful as he was as a companion Volstagg’s size, girth and habit of farting in his sleep left a lot to be desired, especially in a tent.

“It’s not fair,” Sif complained.

“We would all rather have the guard, alas Loki was merely more cunning,” Hogun said putting his weight on his right leg to not to further injure the left as it healed.

_I have a name_ , Faolán wanted to protest but no longer had the energy to do so.

While the other continued to argue amongst themselves Faolán set to work gathering supplies of which this merchant town had plenty. He managed to procure more food and drink for the royal party, not to mention more bedrolls and blankets at least that way everyone would be as comfortable as they could be on the travels back to the city. He had not managed to find any suitable tents that would protect them in this kind of weather.

His ribs still ached as he returned to the Inn, exhausted beyond all measure and relieved of his duties thanks to the other guards and Thor attempting to seduce every woman in a three-mile radius (aside from Sif) Faolán marched up the stairs to his assigned room.

At least he had been given the chance to bathe, though as he examined his wounds he sighed, not broken but defiantly battered and bruised. A good nights sleep and he would be fine.

“That looks painful,” Faolán jumped nerves getting the better of him.

Looking down Faolán sighed, “It is nothing, your highness,” he pulled his black tunic over his head covering his torso, he noticed the prince was still damp from the bath as well, “Is there something I can assist you with?” he asked after to long of staring by the prince.

“No,” answered Loki sitting down on the edge of the bed, he claimed the left side that was furthest from the window, “What do you intend to do should you lose your position amongst the Einherjar?” Loki asked him quite seriously.

Faolán of course had a plan, of course he did, it was foolish to assume that all his life’s plans would magically work out, and he would never need to consider alternatives.

He sat on the right side of the bed wincing slightly with the effort, Asgardians may heal quickly, but he envied the gods increased healing capabilities. The small cuts and scraps Loki had after the fight were long gone, a testament not only to his combat prowess but his physiology.

“Even disgraced I would be accepted in the Úlfhéðnar,” Faolán said causing Loki to look back stunned into silence.

“You would willingly throw your life away to become a wolf warrior? The life of a Einherjar is hard, the life of a Úlfhéðnar is unnecessarily brutal in this day and age,” Loki argued.

“I suppose I could leave Asgard and join the Vanir royal guard, I hear they accept anyone,” Faolán’s joke did not earn him a laugh.

“Because nobody is that dumb to join a guard that is beyond incompetent,” Loki derided, “You truly are a stubborn fool.”

“What would my alternative be?” Faolán asked, Loki frowned, “It is not as though a _disgraced_ warrior would be welcomed amongst warriors within the golden city.”

That much was true. And all because of a couple of supplies that had not meant to be there in the first place.

“You should rest, your highness,” Faolán suggested.

The room warmed by the hearth made the bed comfortable, then again any bed that was not sagging, broken, made of ground or had horse hair (which Faolán was allergic) amongst its filling was a good bed in his books.

He lay down ignoring the ache in his right side and instead looked out to the moonlit night where the cosmos itself was on full display. He settled down thinking it was best to try and sleep off the heaviness that had become a familiar friend as of the missing supplies incident.

Faolán was _almost_ asleep when he felt a hand press up against his ribs, he stiffened not out of fear (who else would it be other than Loki?) but out of surprise. Loki was surprised to feel Faolán relax a little, perhaps it was more than a mere attraction?

The warrior turned hesitantly to the prince, but twisting his body made it ache so he had to lay on his back, “Is something wrong?” he asked again.

“Your ribs are injured,” Loki supplied which yes, that tended to happen in combat, especially when someone with a war hammer gets a good hit in.

“It happens,” Faolán breathed carefully, expanding his chest to much made his ribs ache, it didn’t help that Loki _still_ kept his palm against Faolán’s ribs.

It happened because Volstagg did not watch his left side forcing Faolán to step in and save the unaware warrior from having his skull caved in. Had Faolán not had the skill or training he would perhaps be lay in the dirt body crumpled instead of heavily bruised.

It only occurred to a sheepish Volstagg after seeing Faolán decapitate the raider what the Einherjar had done for him. Not that anyone else would listen, he was credited with felling the raider captain while Thor felled the raider commander. Volstagg of course insisted that Faolán should get the praise. Nobody believed him.

Faolán lied, saying Volstagg was being modest which earned many laughs.

This annoyed Loki, “You should-”

“-It happens, your highness,” Faolán smiled in a tightly controlled way as Loki pulled back the blanket folding it just above Faolán’s waist to inspect the damage done. It was now that Faolán somehow realized his tunic was not on his person but resting on the back of a chair by his bedside.

“Many things happen,” Loki said his hand lighting up with his magic, to his constant surprise when it came to the stubborn warrior, Faolán did not flinch, pull away nor call him vile names believing he was cursing him. Instead, Faolán lay still breathing a little deeper with each breath.

It was a strangely incredible feeling, the power he could feel push through from Loki, the mending of flesh that he did not think battered and torn. It was like taking the first lungfuls of fresh air after being trapped in a dank mouldering house for days without reprieve. Everything felt better, greater than better, he could not fully describe how warm and wonderful the magic felt.

Then of course his body decided that this was quite amazing, his dick stirred, maybe it was the birth of some kind of kink? Or maybe it was Loki in general? Could someone develop an attraction to magic? It certainly seemed possible given his current state of arousal.

“Many of which are unfair,” Loki continued, studying Faolán who’s cheeks once again lit up ruby red only this time the light cast from Loki’s magic bathed him in a strange not unattractive green light.

“I can no more predict the future than you can devour the sun, your highness,” Faolán then turned to Loki, “You need not concern yourself over me. What happens will happen.”

“Oh?” Loki asked closing the distance between them, _yes_ he thought, _he is quite the attractive bed companion_. Faolán smiled uneasy, on one hand it would be a dream come to (or at least fantasy) to pull Loki into a kiss, to feel his body against the god-prince. On the other hand…

Obviously it would simply be a one time fuck, Loki could have no long term relationship with a man, especially that of such a lower rank and an Einherjar (and possible disgraced warrior) no less! Which somehow made it harder and easier to pull away from the prince gently placing some space between them.

Loki reassessed everything, had he read Faolán’s attraction to him wrong?

Faolán blushed as he sat up, the ache long gone in his ribs though now his cock was demanding to know why he suddenly gave up his fantasy, this was an opportunity to fuck or be fucked by Loki, and he was not taking it?

“Do not think I am not flattered-” Faolán was cut off immediately

“-Most men would be offended,” Loki pointed out, annoyed at himself and rethinking where he might’ve gotten the wrong impression. A shame to, the man possessed such an attractive figure and face.

“Ah, well I am one of those odd sorts attracted to people regardless of sex and gender I’m afraid,” Faolán flushed crimson, admitting it out loud was dangerous and oddly terrifying, especially when confessing such a thing to a prince.

All he could think was how he should not have confessed such a thing, it was ridiculous but old fears clung tightly to his bones.

He was more than flattered by Loki’s advances, flustered, overly keen, he would, if younger and more reckless, accepted and responded without thinking of the consequences. Instead, he knew better, he was older, wiser, he knew not to start such things, even if it were just for one time.

His ribs grew cold without Loki’s touch, the lingering doubt and want cascaded into a complicated set of emotions that he dared not name or give too much attention to.

He turned to the Prince, who seemed angry, not at Faolán, he was certain the Prince could rend his bones to ash if that were the case, no he was angry at himself, so Faolán attempted to say something. Perhaps a last ditch attempt to be cordial.

“Do not bother with pleasantries,” Loki said rolling onto his side so that his back faced Faolán, “It will make things awkward.”

“I was not going to apologize, your highness,” Faolán admitted, Loki turned to him confused, “I simply think you should not be wasting any effort or time on me.”

There was a moments pause, where for one naive moment Faolán thought that the prince would argue, instead he sighed a heavy sigh the sort that left one feeling empty.

“You are not as foolish as I first assumed then,” Loki said betraying no emotion that he may or may not feel.

Faolán rolled back onto his side, aware of how his heart ached. It was safer this way, the prince may have simply been looking for stress relief after a fight but Faolán knew his own heart could not handle that.

They lay in a strange sort of silence until one or both of them fell asleep, neither recalled who had fallen asleep first.

* * *

* * *

[ _Changed ending –_ _Go to_ _Chapter two_ ]

Loki had returned to the golden city a week ago with everyone else, he quite by accident forgot all about Faolán. He had been tasked with continuing the odd appearances of the raiders, their sporadic targets and plans. Clearly there was some sort of order lingering within their schemes but for the life of him he could not fathom it, nor their grander plan.

So he did something he rarely did, he took a trip down to the Einherjar barracks where he met with the captain and others. He listened to the warriors drone on board, he already knew everything they were saying, he simply wished to compare notes but the captain was old-fashioned and liked to keep everything strictly organized.

One of the prospective captains, someone who looked like someone had (poorly) crafted a younger Thor from memory and added an unintelligent vapid grin to the youthful face that could not maintain a proper beard, stood and shuffled papers about.

“S-sorry, your highness, sir,” The man said, Loki rolled his eyes, the Captain appeared exhausted, clearly this was a common thing that he had to deal with, “Y-yo-you see follow-following um, Faolán’s discharge we-uh, well he-he was the one who kept things you know neat and stuff? So we kinda, we need to learn how to do this stuff, paperwork, office work.”

Loki perked up, “Faolán? Ah yes the warrior that was… discharged you say?” something hideous settled in the pit of his stomach.

The Captain nodded, “Yes, dishonourably discharged your highness following a dereliction of duty.”

That was quick, they had not been back a week, “How long did this process take?”

“I assure you it took less than a day, now to matters at hand,” The Captain continued, he had the air of a man who would rather drop this conversation. Clearly he had not agreed with it.

“For the sake of smuggled food, mead and salt?” Loki demanded to know, others looked at him sheepish, they clearly were just as uncomfortable as their captain.

“It… was an order from my commander,” The Captain glanced to the not-Thor before dropping his voice while the not-Thor continued to search for the right documents, “My replacement was selected, he is the nephew of our commander. As you know all to well, Politics can be an ugly game.”

“Indeed,” Loki thought back on the man with the sheepish smile, he had been so earnest, selfless, uncomplaining, honest… the fool. He pushed aside the handsome man with the endearing grin and brief flickers of aspirations and passion and instead focused on the mission at hand.

What was done, was done, there was no changing the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Loki Bingo](https://lokibingo.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://void-knights.tumblr.com/)


	2. Faolán the oddity

The trial was underway, Faolán found himself at a loss not knowing what to do with himself all the while waiting for his sentence.

If found guilty of whatever he was being charged with he would be removed from the golden city, disgraced. That meant he would no longer have his title as Lord (for what little it mattered), access to his families money (not that there was much) and would no longer be welcomed within the city.

Rubbing his hands through his hair he tried to compose himself, to not allow those fears to show. He was a warrior, trained in combat, a veteran of two wars and many more battles, and yet he had never been so afraid as he was right now. Faolán could not imagine a life away from the city, his entire life was here.

There was no scenario he could fathom where he would be happy living in the rural areas of Asgard. Yes he would have nature on his doorstep and yes he would no longer be burdened by the politics of the city, but he would lose his friends, the only life he had known and for what? A mistake that was not even his fault.

No _!_ He told himself, if he started thinking like that he would grow bitter, he would blame Volstagg for an innocent mistake. It was Faolán’s duty to ensure that they were readily supplied, he could have conducted one final check before they set off. There were many things that could have been done differently.

There were many things that could have been changed, things that could have been altered ever so slightly that meant he would not be sitting here alone on this bench with a rabbit accepting the greens he offered to it. The other rabbits watched cautiously from a distance, their bold friend assured them that Faolán would not harm them. He was known to it.

“I find it fascinating that you are capable of luring animals to you,” the rabbits scattered at the sound of Prince Loki’s voice, they did not trust him, he smelt of magic and serpents.

“I do not lure them your highness,” Faolán said rising to his feet, curious to know what the younger prince would want with him. It was a large garden, and he had clearly gone out of his way to approach Faolán who had chosen to hide himself away in a relatively private section of the gardens.

“You have a certain hold over them, what other reason would a rabbit venture outside in the middle of winter?” Loki asked the snow clung to his entire being, Faolán found it rather endearing, especially when the ends of princes hair curled.

“Snow rabbits,” the warrior answered watching the rabbits who remained at a distance, they prepared to scatter should a danger (Loki) near them.

“Ah yes I suppose that you are right,” Loki agreed the silence of winter made everything seem so… distant, airy, the season wanted to claw and gnaw at bones but wrapped in layers of cloth, leathers and furs Faolán was finally warm. “I see that you have recovered?”

“Not completely, but I am told I owe my continued ability to walk to you,” Faolán admitted which startled Loki he had known the rot had been bad but not that bad, awkwardly Faolán bowed his head, “Thank you.”

“Norns you are awkward, is this how you always react when someone flirts with you?” Loki asked amused.

“No,” Faolán shuffled, “No, but then again I’ve never… actually no the Vanaheim princess did flirt with me.”

“Which one?” Loki asked, not threatened nor jealous because Faolán was not his, no he was simply curious.

“The youngest I think?” Faolán hadn’t been sure, he had been introduced to the three princesses and prince at the same time, not personally, the Einherjar had just been introduced to the group they would be protecting. But the Vanir introducing them hadn’t really made it obvious which princess was which.

“Blue eyes, blonde, freckles?” Loki asked, “Attention seeking, spoilt, has a habit of thinking her chest size equates to a personality?”

“Um,”

“You need not say a word, I know you will never speak out against any royal house,” Loki said.

Princess Ulrika was something of a nemesis of Loki’s… well when he was a woman Ulrika was a nemesis, he purposely made himself vastly more curvaceous and attractive whenever a woman on Vanaheim. It was physically uncomfortable but to see Ulrika fume at not being able to match Loki in height and shape was always gratifying to the god of mischief.

“Truthfully she wasn’t the princess I was distracted by,” Faolán admitted, there was no point in hiding his attraction to Loki now.

Loki however mistook him, “So Princess Riti then? She is too demure for my tastes.”

“No?” Loki was not usually this slow.

“Lóreley? She seems less like your type she is arrogant, deceitful and her temper is something to be feared,” Loki mused, he could not see Faolán and Lóreley together they were too mismatched.

“No,” Faolán said, “Not her either, she terrifies me,” he admitted which surprised Loki, “Her propensity for cruelty scares me I should say.”

He had not realised they had walked together through the garden, this part was dedicated to winter greens, dense fir trees and sharp bushes with an assortment of berries waiting to be eaten by birds.

Loki had of course heard the rumours of Lóreley’s cruelty though the woman was smarter than her siblings and probably smarter than her parents. She knew how to cover her tracks, but Loki needed only to listen to the lies she spun to know how cruel she might be.

“I did not think that the Einherjar had reason to fear her,” Loki said grateful for the overhead cover the few perfectly manicured trees afforded, the snow had started to work its way into his collar.

“She likes to torment us,” Faolán revealed, “She knows that we cannot defend ourselves against her when we are visiting, we are not afforded the same protections as the Vanir royal guard.”

“I see,” Loki had heard rumours, speculation but the Einherjar were either to proud or afraid to admit that a princess tormented them, possibly both, “Has she ever targeted you?”

“Once, she thought it might be fun to have her pet dog kill a rabbit that had been feeding, while on break,” Faolán frowned, he had felt sorry for the rabbit and wanted to say something, but he had been to afraid that the complaint would earn him a reprimand or suspension.

“Dogs must eat as well,” Loki pointed out.

“And had the dog eaten the rabbit I would… be less angry at the fact, but she killed it just because she could,” Faolán muttered angry.

He had never understood hunting for sport, hunting for food yes he could understand that, survival was key, their hides could be turned into leather and other parts of the body used for other things.

But hunting for sport meant either the victory was the reward or the prized creature was stuffed like a hideous imitation of the thing the creature used to be when alive, or its head hung on a wall.

“You are peculiar,” Loki said coming to a stop where the trees were most dense, the ground beneath them was free of snow and provided moderate warmth, “I can understand disliking cruelty towards animals, but most Aesir would agree that hunting is its own reward.”

“Until you hear a rabbit crying for the children that it will never see again, for the children that will die without her being there to protect them, sure,” Faolán muttered before realising who he was speaking to, “Uh sorry sir, I did not mean to-”

“Yes this ability you have is odd,” Loki agreed looking around them until he noticed a raven perched not to far away, he could not say how he knew, but he knew it was neither Huginn nor Muninn, “What does that raven have to say?” he asked.

“Um,” Faolán turned to the raven that cautiously eyed them, it did not trust them, “He wonders when this snow will end and why you are so shiny.”

“I think my attire suitably dull for the season,” Loki mentioned looking over his usual dark outfit complete with minor gold details here and there. Then he compared himself to Faolán who was kitted out in his usual browns, blacks and greys, he could see how he may look shiny compared to the dull Faolán.

Faolán did his best not to stare as Loki brushed his gloves hands down his front brushing away the last of the snowflakes that had not yet melted in the cover. It seemed a shame to hide away those hands that Faolán had probably fantasied more than what was considered normal.

“Do your parents also possess this skill of yours?” Loki asked noting the way Faolán was staring, it seemed so obvious now, how had he not seen the warriors' attraction before? Perhaps because beyond his reputation as a great warrior and the son of Ulrich he had not paid attention to Faolán.

“Huh, oh um,” Faolán shook his head, “No your highness, in truth we, I have never discussed it with them, so I cannot say for certain whether they to possess the skill.”

“How does a family not speak of rare talents to one another surely they would have an interest even if they themselves did not possess the talent?” Loki asked.

It seemed impossible for a noble family not to brag about a strange ability like Faolán's. Especially Lady Dísella, she would boast about her son possessing an ability that no other Aesir possessed.

“Speaking of families, I hear that the Queen has invited her cousins to Asgard for the winter celebrations,” Faolán said changing the subject and Loki decided not to press Faolán on the issue of his family.

“Yes, the delightful royal house of Vanaheim will be visiting, let us hope I do not need to introduce the princesses and prince to our stables,” Loki sighed, he had heard the second youngest had taken an interest in horses, as had the prince.

Faolán smiled unable to truly convey how much he adored Loki for taking such loving care of the animals in his care, the prince attempted to ignore the sudden adorable expression on the warriors face. Warriors were not allowed to be adorable, it should be a crime.

“Though my mare has been rather-” The prince turned his attention back to Faolán, “-off, perhaps you could see what is wrong with her?”

“I am no healer,” Faolán protested, he liked horses, but he could not stand to be near them.

“True, you have the magical affinity of a pebble, but you can at least communicate with her,” Loki nodded liking his plan more and more, “Perhaps she can tell us what is ailing her.”

“If I say no-”

“-I am your prince,” Loki reminded him, “Would you enjoy seeing the prince you claim to adore lose his most precious steed? The heartache that such an incident would cause me would be insurmountable.”

“I was never going to deny your request,” Faolán sighed, why did he have to be attracted to Prince Loki? Why not Prince Thor? Because Loki could make words like insurmountable sound sexy.

“Of course you weren’t,” Loki grinned viperishly his cunning tongue wetting his lower lip which was just not fair to Faolán who was already struggling with not flinging himself at the prince.

“Norns I should have taken the tent with Volstagg,” Faolán groaned, to his surprise Loki barked out a laugh that only made the warriors insides quiver, was there nothing unattractive about Loki? Norns he was doomed, was this not punishment enough for his crimes?

They walked the quiet route towards the stables, they did not even pass any guards along the way which wasn’t that surprising in winter. The season made it almost impossible to access the golden city from the outside unless you used the official entrances. Unless they received a sudden surprise invasion from the Jötunn they were safe for the season.

The royal stables themselves were grand (of course they were), each horse lived in the lap of extreme comfort, Faolán suspected that these stables were nicer than some houses in Asgard. The main attraction, the stallion at the centre was of course Sleipnir who had a rather peculiar habit of breaking out and taking random strolls wherever he pleased.

Odin permitted it for unknown reasons, the grey stallion was a menace when he broke into gardens or took an interest in children. Children had no qualms about climbing him, they also did not see what was wrong about being carried off by the great beast. Escorting Sleipnir back to the stables was the bane of any einherjar.

Yet there the massive beast stood towering over the regular horses that surrounded him, blazing hellish eyes studying the prince and Faolán who then sneezed. Sleipnir did not whinny he did not even neigh, he made this unsettling noise between a neigh and a demonic snarl.

“Can you understand Sleipnir?” Loki asked.

“I would rather not,” Faolán took a respectful step back sneezing once again. Naturally this intrigued Loki, Faolán should have known better, “He thinks you smell nice and wants to know why I can understand him.”

“He is not the only one,” Loki admitted studying Faolán then sneezed again, it wasn’t the most pleasant sight or sound, but he still found the obnoxious sound strangely endearing.

“He would also appreciate anise rather than spearmint treats, he finds anise more appetising and would like his bedding to include wool freshly-” Loki pulled Faolán away before Sleipnir could abuse this new-found form of communication.

It did not take long to find Loki’s mare, she instantly came to the door to greet the god of mischief who soothed her with pats and her favourite treats. She listened to his soft ministrations, it was odd to be jealous of a horse but Faolán found himself envying the adoration that Loki poured into the obsidian mare. He truly treasured her.

“So what ails her?” Loki turned to Faolán as the mare rested her chin on Loki’s shoulder, keeping a wary eye on Faolán. He sounded so worried that it would have broken Faolán’s heart if he didn’t find the answer hilarious.

“She-” he sneezed pulling himself as far away from all the horses as he could, “-S-she uh, she’s pregnant.”

Loki stared at him, “Nonsense I have not allowed her to… what brute has taken advantage of you?” Loki demanded to know, Norns he fussed over her as though she were his flesh and blood daughter.

“Can horses take advantage of one-” Faolán was met with a sharp glare, “What I mean to say is that horses tend to be rather deadly when it comes to self-defence, I once saw a mare kick a stallion to death to protect her foal.”

“True,” Loki hummed rubbing at the mares neck, “But that does not mean they can always protect themselves.”

Faolán didn’t know what to say, he was to busy trying not to sneeze too many times while his breathing started to become affected, “Who is the father?” Loki asked, caught between a cough and sneeze Faolán spluttered then choked on air, the prince could not be serious, could he? What did it matter?

Well Faolán knew what it mattered, horse breeding was important amongst the nobility and royal families who wanted only the best of the best, who demanded their horses be sired by the greatest of all horses. The royalty of horse stocks. Faolán never had the opportunity to fall in love with horses, his strange allergy to them made it difficult to be near them.

Loki summoned the stable master to confirm what Faolán had said, “I don’t know how me missed it, but yes, she’s pregnant,” The stable master confirmed patting the mare's flank, “Early stages, but it explains her change in attitude and appetite.”

“I would like to know how this happened-” Loki glared at the stable master who was tempted to make a joke, but he was a smart man, he decided against the joke and instead turned his attention to Faolán.

“Sorry,” Faolán choked out before making his escape, it wouldn’t kill him, he had learnt that midgardians died of their allergies being Asgardian he knew he would not die but that did not mean it was pleasant. Choking on nothing as his eyes watered he needed a moment to breathe in the fresh air. His own biology would solve the issue in a few moments.

“You are most peculiar,” Fingers brushed over the side of Faolán’s neck, he turned to the see the prince standing there, once again healing him. The push of magic into his flesh seemed to warm his entire being, deep within his stomach something uncurled itself.

Loki drew the pad of his thumb along Faolán’s bearded jaw, the warrior's lips parted, his arousal growing more obvious the longer Loki worked his magic. It was odd to find a warrior like Faolán comfortable around magic, rarer still was the fact that Faolán seemed to enjoy the push of magic.

The prince studied the guard satisfied that the allergic reaction had passed he removed his hand, the soft whimper that escaped Faolán made him smile, the warrior blushed.

“Thank you,” Faolán smiled up at him, Loki thought the man was rather attractive when he smiled, the sheer honesty and warmth of it always seemed to catch him off guard.

Loki returned to check on his horse and the stable master giving Faolán a moment to breathe and collect himself. It was stupid he knew, stupid to be so infatuated with a prince far out of his league, yet he could not fight what he felt. He tried that once only for it to backfire spectacularly, seeing Loki easily toss someone across a hallway had done things to Faolán that to this day he could not explain.

It was that reminder that while he was Asgardian Faolán could not compare to the gods in terms of physical strength. There would always be that divide. Faolán never understood his attraction to Loki, not really, but he couldn’t deny it existed.

Watching Faolán Loki considered the man carefully, he was handsome enough, well more than enough, he was very handsome, his looks were wasted as a einherjar where none would see his face.

He kept himself neat and tidy, nothing too unusual for an Asgardian, his soft brown hair was held back in a bun only a few locks escaped their biding while his dark beard was neatly trimmed. The warmth of his brown skin blended with the natural colours of his armour, he had a slight scar on his left cheek which was fading with time and superior healing.

“He’s a good man,” The stable master, Asbjørn stood by Loki observing Faolán as well, “Little odd but good.”

“In what way is he odd?” Loki asked regarding the silver haired man with a questioning look. Though he suspected he already knew the reply.

“Always has been, that thing he does, talkin’ to animals I’ve seen it they understand him and trust him,” Loki turned back to Faolán who was watching the sky for something, “Ever since he was a boy he’s had that weird gift.”

“I didn’t realise Faolán visited the palace?” Loki said, he was sure he would have remembered the man better if he had.

Then again he never realised how odd it was that Faolán had never visited the palace, at least as far as Loki was aware. The nobility of Asgard often brought their children to the palace when Loki and Thor were boys, they had wanted their children to become friends of the princes.

It had worked with Thor up until he got bored with the sycophants more interested in kissing his arse than being his friend, the scandal that Thor would rather be seen with Vanir and a Lady friend had been delightful to the younger prince. So many potential alliances and future marriages burnt down in less than a weekend, Loki would never forget the shock and anger.

But Faolán, he had never been a part of that. Which was odd, Lady Dísella was the type of woman that would have thrust her son onto Thor. But now that the prince thought on it, he could not remember any mention of Faolán from either his parents, Dísella was a perfect match to her husband, both of them the last people one would expect to be parents. Theirs wasn’t a marriage of love, it was convenience, a merging of two powerful ancient houses to pool resources and strength old blood.

Faolán was the culmination of generations of breeding, racial purity some might call it. Neither family had wanted anything to do with anyone that was not Asgardian, their families were famous for opposing the marriage between Frigga and Odin. Dísella and Ulrich retained their distrust and hatred of anyone that was not Asgardian.

Which meant that Faolán was more of an oddity now that Loki thought about it. Faolán got on with Vanir, Ljósálfar and dwarves, he was overly friendly, he cared.

“Aye he visited often, well, he was dumped in the gardens by either parent, and they forbade him from going indoors,” Asbjørn said wrapping his cloak tighter around himself, his old bones creaking with the settled winter.

“Why would they forbid him enter the palace?” Loki asked.

“Dunno,” Asbjørn shrugged, “But my guess, because they didn’t much care for Faolán, they didn’t want that scruffy boy being seen by anyone. He’s not… normal.”

“He looks just like every other Asgardian to me,” Loki said, which was a half-lie, Faolán’s skin, hair and eyes were a couple of shades darker than what was typical of Asgardians in general, but it wasn’t impossible or unheard of.

“Pity he decided to follow his father,” The stable master said closing up the stables for the evening, that would not keep the monstrous Sleipnir contained, but the man had long since given up on that dream. “I’d have liked him on my team.”

“It is curious that he did not choose to work with animals,” Loki agreed watching Faolán squat down to stroke a winter fox’s chin, it seemed delighted with the attention.

“Wasn’t given much of a choice was he,” Loki frowned at Asbjørn’s comment, the man sighed as he pulled on his gloves, “Good night your highness.” He departed saying a fond farewell to Faolán and startling the winter fox in the process. Faolán sighed watching the fox rush off back towards the garden.

Loki waited until Asbjørn was out of sight before approaching Faolán, “With your talents you could have become a caretaker to animals, I know my mother is always looking for people to care for the animals she has in her menagerie.”

“I might have one talent that would assist me in caring for animals, but I found a natural talent for combat, at least that is what General Týr told me,” Faolán said with a casual shrug of the shoulder.

“You were personally assessed by Týr?” Loki asked, Faolán only became stranger the further he dug.

“Is that not usual?” Faolán asked rising to his full height, he was a couple inches shorter than Loki both of whom weren’t wearing heels today.

“It is not unheard of,” Loki said, Just odd, very odd. Týr usually left his commanders and Captain’s to assess the upcoming warriors that wished to join the einherjar.

The snowflakes started to fall in greater numbers their size increasing until fat heavy flakes tumbled from the sky and clung to anything they could land on. Stubbornly they refused to melt away, the air grew colder, before them their breaths fogged in the evening air.

“I should return to the barracks,” Faolán said, Loki studied him closely for a moment, “Thank you, this has-” helped take my mind off the ongoing trails he wanted to say, but Loki grabbed the warrior by his brown fur cloak and shoved him into the nearest surface which happened to be the side of the stables.

Hidden from all but Heimdall’s eyes Loki kissed Faolán, it was a vicious thing full of a hunger that the prince could not explain, a hunger that made the warrior weak and submit so easily to the god.

Faolán threaded his fingers in the princes hair tugging him closer attempting to mould their bodies together, a breathy moan escaped the pair of them. It was as though Loki were everywhere invading Faolán's senses until the only thing the warrior could think of was the god kissing him. He clung to the prince’s coat desperate for more contact, clever hands drifted over leather and chain mail.

His lips parted, giving Loki deeper access to his being, the prince tasted of spiced wine tinged with a sweetness that lured Faolán in. Pressed between the prince and wall the warrior had no chance of escape, no exit, the thought excited him more than it should.

Loki’s hands attempted to find a way to touch skin that was not Faolán’s face, casual armour hampered him, he settled for wrapping his hands around the warriors' waist pulling him tight against his own body until their mutual arousal was obvious to both.

A groan escaped Faolán as Loki pressed himself against the warrior, Loki pulled his lips from the warrior a heavy breath escaping him. To the prince the guard tasted honeyed, it was delicious, enticing, he ground himself against the warrior the pair of them groaned into the winter air.

“ _Norns_ why did I let you escape?” The prince asked pressing his forehead to Faolán’s. The warriors eyes were warm, soft with something, affection he realised and darkened with obvious lust.

Faolán placed a trembling hand upon the princes leather clad chest, “To be fair-”

“-I am not interested in fair,” Loki growled running his gloved hands over Faolán's ribs.

“I-” Faolán did not get the chance to finish as the loud sound of people made the prince draw away from him. Faolán could still feel the god's body heat, the soft hardness of his lips, the scent of juniper that clung to him.

Guards rounded the corner, “Faolán!” Otmar a fellow guard (half dwarf, and it showed in his heart and glorious beard) swaggered over to a startled Faolán cheerful as a summer song bird.

Faolán checked the area, but Loki was gone, of course he was, “Otmar, surprised to see you back for the winter,”

“Eh? The wife wanted to come back to Asgard, the In-Laws couldn’t stand being away from the nippers,” The man shrugged.

“And the fresh stock of winter honeyed mead has nothing to do with it?” Faolán teased wondering if Loki was gone or simply invisible.

“Burn my beard Lad, I would never come back to this for mead,” Otmar kicked at the snow dramatically, he couldn’t get used to snow, not after living the majority of his life on Nidavellir which had no seasons.

“I’d never burn such a glorious beard, I’m facing enough criminal charges as is,” Faolán answered.

“Yea heard about that, what were you thinkin’ letting the princes near the shipment carts?”

“I know, I know,” Faolán sighed holding up his hands, “But hopefully I’m not let go from the Einherjar.”

“Fuck hope! We need you lad, If Signar ends up guard captain-”

“-I never said I was applying for the position of Guard Captain, I’m still young-”

“-Everyone knows Edbjørn’s been grooming you for the position,” Otmar said kicking more snow.

“And a dozen other men,” because Faolán was not alone, there were many skilled and more senior men than him vying for the same position. The chance to become guard-captain did not come around that often, it was a brutal fight.

“I’m freezin’ my balls off here, so let's agree that you’re gonna be the next guard captain and let me get back inside,” Otmar complained loudly which only made Faolán laugh, “So what you doin’ out here, you can’t be near horses.”

“But I can be near foxes,” Faolán said pointing towards the fox that had returned, it sat on the fence watching them.

“Yeah? What do foxes talk about?”

“They’re gossips,” Faolán said walking with Otmar, “I doubt I’d make it to Captain after this trail.”

“Kid,” Otmar turned to him, “Between you and me you’re the only good candidate, ain’t no way Edbjørn is gonna let Signar be captain.”

Faolán wasn’t as optimistic, he felt he should be but there was always a chance that the right person would whisper in the wrong ear and suddenly he was out of the city, disgraced and relieved of all duties. Severed from his life.

 _Norns_ , he had wanted to forget all this. Why couldn’t he go back to kissing Loki?

“You look as though you could use several pints,” Otmar patted the middle of Faolán’s back.

“Make it the whole barrel,” Faolán muttered rubbing the back of his neck in a poor attempt to ignore his half hard cock, at least the armour hid that from view. Together they walked back into the palace.

*****

Loki was caught by Thor just as he was about to make his escape to the warm libraries, “Brother I have not seen you all day!” there was a reason for that.

Loki had been searching for Faolán all day wondering if now that the trials were underway the warrior would change his mind. If they lost him to the wolf warriors the prince was not sure what he would do with himself, well he had until he kissed the man. Why did the warrior lure him like this? What could-

Thor clasped Loki by the shoulder startling Loki out of his thoughts, “You seem distracted this evening,” Thor said his blue eyes searching his brothers guarded expression.

“I have much on my mind these days,” Loki grumbled attempting not to let his brother know too soon.

“Yes I am troubled as well,” Thor admitted which surprised Loki, Thor troubled meant that something had gone seriously wrong, “Faolán’s trial has me wondering.”

“Really?” Loki asked, surprised by this revelation.

Thor nodded and followed Loki into the library, they were hidden away in the private section reserved for the royal family only. It gave Loki the opportunity to sit down and change out of his armour (using a simple spell) while Thor paced nervously. He had never been one for being locked away in the library.

Sitting himself down Loki watched his brother face for a couple of minutes, it gave him the opportunity to select a book and settle down on the plush sofa.

“The politics at play to assure that Faolán does not rise to the position of captain bother me, what is wrong with Faolán that they do not want him as Captain?”

“Brother you know as well as I do, this is not about Faolán this is about ensuring that Signar is made Captain, his family wants this,” Loki said.

“That is not how it should be,”

“But it is, and you are not yet king so unless you can change Odin’s mind,” Loki prodded which of course made Thor deflate, not even Frigga could change Odin’s stubborn old mind when the king had sent his mind on a certain thing.

“Signar is a fool,” Thor complained.

“Of that we are in agreement,” Loki nodded.

“His wife is as unpleasant as he is,” Thor continued.

“Of course she is, she was spoilt as a child, a monstrous cretin who is too dumb to be given any sort of responsibly,” monstrous women seemed to be a reoccurring theme today.

“Is this because of the dress?”

“This is not because of the dress,” Loki huffed, returning to his book, Thor waited, “It might have begun with the dress,” Loki finally conceded, “That woman stole my gown, the gown that I was to wear on my nine hundredth name day!”

It was less about the dress, though that dress had been glorious and utterly waisted on the thin bean pole of a woman with a shrill voice and vile personality. It was more that she had been capable of not only stealing the designs but the dress itself, the physical dress, that had been secured and locked away.

Proving that Lady Alda had influence in places that Loki was uncomfortable with. She should not have sway over people so close to the royal house. Thor knew this, Frigga had made a point of it when Odin dismissed the concerns seeing it as one of Loki’s ‘tantrums’ but the threat was there.

It still amused Thor to see his brother get bent out of shape about the dress, he couldn’t help teasing Loki about it still.

“We have to make sure that Signar never becomes captain,” Thor said.

For a moment Loki agreed-just a moment then he sighed, “Think on it brother, would Faolán want to win the position of Captain like that?”

“He does struggle with lying,” Thor complained finally sitting himself down, he looked rather out of place with his bulk and armour, “Perhaps you could teach him a thing or to?”

Ignoring the unintended innuendo (for now) Loki shook his head, “I doubt there is a force in creation that could teach Faolán how to lie.”

“It makes one wonder how Ulrich and Dísella managed to produce such an heir,” Thor complained leaning his head back to stare at the painting ceiling as though that held the answers he sought. It didn’t, it still had the little painting Loki did as a young boy though, the cheeky little snake sticking its tongue out at the viewer.

“There is much about Faolán that confuses me,” Loki admitted.

“Ah you mean his skills in battle?”

“No, that is the least confusing thing about him,” Loki said returning to his book, this was getting them nowhere.

“You have not witnessed him in battle,” Thor said.

“Brother do you forget that I was there when he escorted us-”

“-I am talking a real battle,” Thor interrupted, Loki glanced up at his brother that serious expression surprised him a little.

“Oh here we go, are you about to regal me with a tale of how he bested a hundred men by himself?” Loki mocked.

“Of course not, but he did best Lord Rikvald in combat with a sword,” Loki set down his book at his brothers words.

“Lord Rikvald? The man who bested you? The man who has defeated a legion of enemies with his famed singing blades? The man who once felled a dragon with a single swing of his sword?”

“We both know that one is a lie,”

“I appreciate a good old-fashioned lie on occasion,” Loki said closing his book, “Are you telling me that Faolán truly bested Rikvald?”

“He also talks to animals,”

“Everyone knows that,”

“We didn’t until recently,”

Both brothers were left confused and conflicted on what they should do, on one hand they could leave well enough alone knowing full well that with the right push Signar’s family would have Faolán disgraced in record time. On the other hand if they meddled Faolán would find out and disapprove.

Unless Faolán never found out, “We would have to be sneaky,” Loki said. Thor nodded, it had been a long time since they had schemed together, “You will need to follow my instructions,” again he nodded, “Please do not involve the warriors three and Lady Sif.”

“To late,” Thor said with an overly cheerful grin.

“Oh for the love of…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a looooong time since I've written a multichapter fic, hopefully this is good enough. 
> 
> [Loki Bingo](https://lokibingo.tumblr.com/) | [My Tumblr](https://void-knights.tumblr.com/)


	3. Mother knows best

Archery had never been Faolán’s strong suit, but he was bored and in need of a good distraction. Teaching himself archery had seemed like a good idea when he started this so early in the morning it was still night. Though given the season it always seemed night at the moment. It made for a depressing atmosphere for his training.

Raising the bow once more Faolán focused on the target trying to hit it closer to the centre this time, logically speaking he should be able to do this. He was fairly decent with a spear, but for whatever reason mastering the bow was proving to be a difficult task. Letting loose the arrow he could only sigh when the thing managed to bounce off the edge of the target.

Taking another arrow he tried altering his stance, the next shot barely managed to strike the target.

“You should-” Hands coming to rest on his hips caused Faolán to react on pure instinct, he pulled the unknown person down to the ground placing his knee on their back before realising who had managed to sneak up on him. Of course, it had been Loki, “-Not my usual style, but I am open to new ideas,” he purred.

“I-uh,” blushing furiously he helped the prince back up onto his feet, “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need for that, with hindsight I should have expected you to react in such a manner,” The prince said dusting himself off with a simple spell, well yes he should have, but that didn’t stop Faolán fretting. He was already in trouble he didn’t need an onlooker seeing him assault the younger prince as well.

Naturally Faolán worried, he wrung his hands trying not to appear too worried, it wasn’t working.

“I was merely attempting to correct your stance,” Loki said turning towards the target which had been struck twice with arrows, “Your aim is terrible.”

“If I had a spear I could hit that target,” Faolán defended himself. Loki was somewhat amused that Faolán like all his fellow warriors was just as quick to defend his combat prowess. Some things were universal no matter how odd the warrior might be.

“Oh I doubt that,” Loki needled watching as Faolán shuffled, he was clearly restraining himself, but there was no hiding the warrior's frustration to prove his skills, all warriors were the same in the princes experiences, so Loki summoned a spear to his hand, “Prove it,” he said handing the warrior the weapon.

He believed Faolán would strike the target, he did not expect the warrior to strike the target dead centre. Yet he could not aim a bow and arrow? With a sigh and wave of his hand Loki vanished the spear, that did not stop Faolán from preening. It was quite adorable to see that little bubble of pride and confidence that always seemed so lacking in the warrior.

“So would I be correct in assuming you have been brought here by your need to distract yourself?” Loki asked.

“Yes,” Faolán sighed collecting the arrows, “I thought if I learnt a new skill, or mastered one I might find distractions.”

“Instead I manage to ruin that,” Loki realised.

“No, you did not, I could not focus to begin with,” Faolán answered fidgeting, he didn’t know what was happening and quite frankly he would rather have Loki spell out whatever this was. But it wasn’t his place to make such demands of a prince, so he caught himself and held himself in place unable to make a move forward.

Reaching for Faolán Loki took the warrior by the wrist and pulled him tight against his own front, “I am certain that I can offer another form of distraction,” he purred which had Faolán blushing. It was quite the boost to the princes ego to know he could easily affect such a skilled warrior like this.

“To be honest-”

“-Which I am still attempting to train you out of being,” Loki grinned,

“Good luck with that,” Faolán sighed which only made the god of lies chuckle, “You could wear the most conservative fashions of Vanaheim and I would still be distracted.”

“Doubtful,” Loki hummed, he would sooner shave off all his hair than be seen in such fashions. “Besides, if you respected me you would not imagine me in such garments.”

Faolán’s fantasies tended to feature a naked Loki, although one or two did feature Loki in armour regardless of gender and sex. Suddenly he couldn’t look the prince in the eye which was difficult given that the prince was currently keeping him pinned in place with one large hand on the small of his back.

Warm fingers brushed against his chin, pushing until he met Loki’s eye, “Little wolf I can read your thoughts,” which confirmed a deep-seated fear of Faolán’s, but oddly was slightly exciting, no he shouldn’t think such things because – Loki laughed a deep rich laugh that had the warrior blushing so hard a tomato would envy him.

“That’s not fair,” Faolán cleared his throat.

“I would not be the god of mischief and lies if I were prone to fairness would I?” Loki’s grin was downright wicked when Faolán whimpered, he was right of course, but that didn’t make the warrior feel less helpless. Which in turn made this more awkward as being at the god's mercy was one of the warriors fantasies.

Maybe if he flung himself into the nearest star he could escape his embarrassment? Loki lured the warrior in closer silently promising him a kiss, “You need never feel embarrassed with me, my little wolf,” he promised brushing his soft lips against Faolán's.

“I find that difficult to believe,” Faolán admitted, he was the god of mischief, didn’t mischief often go hand in hand with some degree of embarrassment? “Sorry,” he was unused to being… whatever this was.

“You need not apologise,” Loki whispered capturing him in another kiss, but Faolán wanted to, he felt the urge to say so many things to Loki, but deep-rooted fears made him hold his tongue.

Loki could feel those thoughts, those fears, those old rules drilled into Faolán and thousands of people like him on Asgard. It was what made sure that certain classes did not rise above their assigned station, it was what prevented Faolán from admitting the feelings he wanted to express.

Faolán grabbed onto Loki’s coat afraid that if he let go this would end, whatever this was. The warrior didn’t know how to keep this going, his past relationships had never… not that this was a relationship, it wasn’t anything until Loki said it was, was it?

He wasn’t made for casual affairs, that had never been so clear until this moment and the realisation left him feeling uncertain. Loki pressed his lips to the side of his neck, “You are afraid,” the prince said matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Faolán admitted in a whisper.

“Of me?” Loki asked.

“No, not you,” Faolán said pressing himself further into the god-prince wondering how it had come to this. Loki pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I-” what could he say? He didn’t know.

“-I have the perfect distraction for you,” The prince whispered pulling back from the worried warrior, he kept one hand wrapped around his wrist.

“I don’t think that I could-”

“-Not that sort of distraction,” Loki promised gently, meaning it, as tempted as he was to strip the warrior out of his armour here and fuck him he knew that was not what Faolán needed.

As soon as they stepped through the doors leading into the corridors Loki released his hold on Faolán who missed the warmth of the princes hand. He tried not to think to hard about the need to be hidden away, Loki could not risk – well no he could, it was Faolán who could not risk being seen intimate with a man in public.

The long walk through the palace was a quiet sort of thing punctuated with the occasional comment or question. It didn’t quite feel real, a month ago Faolán would watch the prince from a distance certain that Loki did not even know who he was. Why would he? He’s just a royal guard, one of thousands, just another face in a crowd of people he walked by daily, was the prince supposed to remember everyone’s name and face?

They turned several corners but Faolán had patrolled these corridors many times over the centuries he knew them like the back of his own hand. He knew what to look for when something was out of place or misaligned, anything could be a clue to something not being right.

But as they walked he found no inconsistencies, nothing to make a fuss over which was both blessing and curse. He longed for a distraction that meant he could start a conversation instead Loki seemed comfortable just to walk in silence. Second guessing his every thought, feeling, and action exhausted Faolán.

They turned towards the royal wings, Faolán came to a stop, “I’m not-”

“-You are with a prince, now let us go,” Loki insisted and Faolán was at his mercy pulled along the corridors until they arrived at the destination.

The guards were not told what each of these rooms were in the royal corridors, each private to a select few, they only knew where the princes slept as a safety precaution so Faolán did not know this room. Loki lead the way pushing the doors open with a burst of green seiðr, the golden doors opened revealing a space Faolán did not expect.

“My workshop, or laboratory if you prefer,” Loki grinned watching as Faolán in his awe stepped into the laboratory unbothered by propriety and manners. A swell of pride filled Loki not just because of how in awe Faolán was but for the simple fact that he could inspire such a thing with his work.

Then it was gone, Faolán caught himself before he touched an innocent enough plant, “Ah this is unexpected,” Faolán said, unsure what to say, why would Loki bring him here of all places?

“I am not surprised,” Loki agreed walking to the other end of the laboratory meanwhile Faolán stood stock still unsure what to do with himself, “However I thought you might be interested in a project of mine.”

“I know nothing of magic,” Faolán quickly reminded the prince as though he could forget!

“And should I need advice on magic it shall not be you I would need to consult,” he said which was true, Loki gestured for Faolán to follow him so the solider did uncertain of himself and hyper aware of everything around him. There were so many glass bottles just casually strewn about, they looked so fragile, so breakable.

“However given your unique talents, talents that I am still investigating,” Loki said Faolán turned to him, “I would like your assistance in this matter,” the prince said revealing a small wooden box in which a raven was nestled in a bed of the finest balls of cotton, straw and other bits of pieces an adult raven might find laid about in nature.

It wasn’t any old raven, it was as white as snow with a pinkish beak and bright blue eyes, he had heard the stories, rare ravens born white but to see one in person… it was incredible.

“It does not seem to want to eat,” Loki said, he frowned worried about the creature and not because of its rarity or value but because he had grown rather fond of the slightly ugly chick.

⸢Wh-who are you?⸥ the raven chick asked Faolán shivering inside it’s feathers, it was scared, confused and alone. It recognised nobody and did not understand what was happening to it. Why did one always leave to come back at odd hours? Did the one in green not want him?

“It doesn’t feel safe,” Faolán said gently stroking the top of it’s head with his thumb, it shivered not in fear but with the slight chill that Loki had not noticed. “It is cold and would like to know where you go.”

He should have anticipated that, Loki realised, so the prince sighed, “I can enchant the box to keep the chick warm,” he suggested which Faolán would have to assume would be enough as Loki was the expert when it came to magical matters.

“What are you feeding it?” Faolán wondered.

“I create a paste of various insects and a few grains, each morning, the enchanted bottles keep the paste fresh for the chick,” he explained to Faolán who nodded, that might be enough, he was no expert, but he did have some experience.

Faolán took the chick into his hands and gently rubbed at its feathery cheeks until it settled, soothed by the warriors touches and body heat, “Did you find it?” he asked worried that Loki might have stolen it, after all white ravens were highly sought after by magic practitioners.

“No I would not steal a child from its parents,” Loki said his tone did not leave much room for argument.

“Sorry I did not mean to accuse you, it is just common for white ravens to be taken from nests,” Faolán said setting the raven back in its nest.

“It’s parents had been killed by eagles, it and three siblings survived up until last week,” Loki explained gently rubbing the pad of his thumb along the chicks feathery cheek affectionately, “Now it is alone.”

Faolán smiled, “Well it has you, so it’s not so alone,” it sounded sappy even to the warrior who now wished he could take back those words. Instead, Loki smiled, of course Faolán would be the sort to say such saccharine things.

“Clearly I have not done enough if it feels lonely,” Loki pointed out, which yeah, Faolán cursed himself, he had just accused the prince of practically abandoning the chick. “Which is why I brought you here, while your trail is underway you have nothing to occupy yourself.”

“I… I have my daily training routines,” Faolán pointed out wishing that Loki had not been so accurate in his assessment of Faolán’s current situation. Friends he had known for centuries had suddenly decided to disbelieve him, to side against him and want nothing to do with him, it was a trying time, “Morning and evening I dedicate a portion of my day to practising.”

“Every single day?” Loki asked horrified, even Thor wasn’t that dedicated or perhaps that was the problem.

“Of course otherwise I will fall out of shape and skill,” Faolán said turning his attention to the curious chick that was now studying them. It wanted to know who they were and what they were doing here and why did it understand Faolán but not Loki. Well no it understood Loki but it understood Faolán as though Faolán were a raven.

Loki took a moment to appreciate Faolán who shuffled nervously, “It would be a shame to see this body fall out of shape,” the prince purred, Faolán should have known.

“I…” Loki reached forward to grab his wrist and pull him close, Faolán didn’t know what to say or do just as he was about to speak a loud knock at the doors forced Loki to step away leaving Faolán with his thoughts.

The princes attentions were requested in the council chambers so Faolán had to leave the laboratory, it was too dangerous to leave someone unfamiliar with magic and dangerous mystical artefacts alone in such a place. The warrior departed with only his confused thoughts for company.

* * *

Faolán’s greatest issue (aside from the trial)was the fact that he did not know what game Prince Loki was playing. It would be obvious to anyone that the prince was not actually interested in him in any romantic way. The possibility for any sort of romance between himself and Loki was a dream best left abandoned.

Yet he was pulled in unable to help himself whenever Loki touched him or really paid any sort of attention to him. Norns it was like being a child experiencing their first love again, only this time love would be unobtainable.

“You keep starin’ at that pint for much longer it’ll have you arrested,” Otmar complained downing his own pint.

“Sorry I have a lot on my mind,” Faolán admitted.

“Yeah I can imagine that,” Otmar nodded grimly thinking that Faolán was worried about his trail and not whether the younger prince may harbour any sort of feelings towards him. “So have you made a plan should you end up being found guilty?”

“And assuming they don’t toss me in the dungeon?” Faolán asked suddenly not interested in his drink, “I thought I did,” he muttered bringing both hands up to his head and brushing his fingers through it, the stress of not knowing his own future was slowly whittling away at him leaving him exposed like a raw nerve.

“So you’ve gotten the mad notion of being one of Odin’s wolf warrior’s outta that thick skull of yours then?” Otmar was pleased, Faolán however wasn’t too sure about that, it was simply the Úlfhéðnar looked less appealing now.

“Not quite but I’m not so eager to join if that is what you mean,” Faolán said while finishing off his pint, “But never mind me how’s Heidi and the kid?”

“A terror, the nippers new thing is collecting rocks, rocks! We keep finding them in the most unexpected places,” Otmar grumbled which made Faolán grin, “You ever think about kids?”

“Having them? Not really,” Faolán admitted pushing his empty flagon aside, “They seem exhausting.”

“But worth it,” the twinkle in Otmar’s eye almost made Faolán believe it, almost. Children were something he liked so long as he could return them to the parent within a few hours.

They paid their tab and left the tavern, the brisk cold air of winter chased away the warmth that had permeated their beings, together they stumbled through the city laughing about things they would not remember until each had returned to their homes. Well Otmar had a home, a house with a wife, child and garden that gleamed and glittered and from which a warm homely golden glow seeped out into the chilling nights air.

He had the barracks. Grim brown-grey stone walls, floor and one small window overlooking the market district. He lay on his bed his face pressed down into a pillow the cold and stiff mattress only contributed to the melancholy that had seemed into his bones.

The barracks weren’t meant to be a permanent residence but Faolán was soon finding that he was becoming the only one who lived here for the long term. Most people found houses, homes, lives outside of work, he had nothing but his work. Sometimes he wished he had not become a guard then his life might be simple, maybe more than sometimes, a lot of the time he thought about it.

He could have gone on to do so much and instead… instead he was here alone listening to drunken guards stagger their way to their assigned rooms.  


The morning brought a hard cold light, he showered and dressed himself for the day aware that once again he had nothing to do aside from training. So he trained until he was left tired and bored. To kill the boredom he took a second shower and decided to spend too much time on his hair hoping it would be lunchtime by the time he finished only to find out lunch was a couple of hours away.

He could have an early lunch… this was his life now. Waiting for lunch and hoping his savings would stretch out to last until the end of the trail (assuming he was found innocent).

Walking through the palace courtyard he considered going into the city to pick up a few supplies mentally counting the cost when the crunch of snow beneath boots made him look up. Not many bothered to use the courtyard as a shortcut in the winter, it was often too slippery and to cold thanks to the limited protection from the elements.

“Imagine my surprise when I had learned that you had decided to attend the training yard at an earlier hour,” Prince Loki said sweeping through the area as though he was born to walk amongst ice and snow. Faolán had slipped and slid three dozen times in the short walk across the yard.

He struggled to understand why the prince would be surprised, “I find it easier to train when the training yard is sparsely populated,” he answered which was true for several reasons, but the details did not matter.

“And here I thought you were avoiding me,” Loki grinned trying not to let his annoyance or fears show. He liked Faolán, perhaps more than he should have given their differences but to know that Faolán would one day be wise enough to abandon his infatuation and do everything within his power to avoid him hurt more than the prince ever truly wanted to admit, especially to himself.

“I was avoiding you by following my usual routine?” Faolán asked confused, that didn’t make sense to him.

“Yes?” Loki realised how silly he sounded. He knew Faolán trained at the same time every morning but in the evening it varied widely.

“Okay?” Faolán said trying not to be awkward, but they had magically stumbled into awkwardness. “Is-is there a reason you were looking for me?”

As a matter of fact yes there was, Loki had intended to be Faolán’s distraction today while Thor spoke to the courts about Faolán ensuring to make everyone aware how great and wonderful the warrior was. A tactic that Loki was certain would annoy Faolán, it was all politics and he best learn that fact now.

“I was not aware that I required a reason,” Loki said coming to a stop before Faolán who was trying to work out how if Loki had not had a reason for stopping Faolán why would he stop him? He quickly realised he was overthinking things, but he couldn’t help it.

“I um, okay? I was just going to get myself something to eat,” Faolán explained not sure where to go or what to do with this strange conversation.

“Then I shall join you,” Loki said surprising Faolán.

Faolán was grateful for the company, but he could not help wonder what people would say when they were sighted together in public. It wasn’t that he would be ashamed of being sighted with Loki it was simply that they were a very unlikely duo to be seen out together.

Worse was the trail that was going on… would people think that he was using the prince to sway the trail in his favour? The idea that someone (or many people) might assume that he was manipulating Loki hurt, he didn’t want to be one of those people that used others for favours.

“You do like to get lost in your own thoughts don’t you little wolf?” Loki asked pulling Faolán from his downward spiral of thoughts before wrapping his own white fur cloak around Faolán’s shoulders. “Now you mentioned lunch?” he asked.

Faolán nodded, “Y-yes,” the cloak was impossibly warm though he worried about Loki, “You shouldn’t, don’t you need this?” he asked the prince.

“The cold has little effect upon me,” he answered clasping the cloak securely against Faolán. “Though watching you shiver is making me feel the bite of winter a little more.”

“Then I apologise your highness,” Faolán smiled walking with Loki and trying not to overthink whatever might happen. “Ah, uh how’s the raven?” he asked.

Loki opened his coat to reveal the raven tucked into an inside pocket, somehow comfortable and not at all squashed despite how the coat was form fitting and gave away nothing that a live animal was nesting in a pocket.

“You could always ask it yourself,” Loki said with a small grin, Faolán was to busy trying to work out how Loki hid a raven chick on his persons to notice the softening expression on the princes face as he did ask the raven how it was doing.

The answer was magic of course. It would seem silly with hindsight that he even questioned Loki having magical pockets.

Lunch was pleasant enough though Faolán was certain that some people were staring, not bothering to hide their surprise or shock. It wasn’t often that he longed for his Einherjar armour, but today he would be glad of the anonymity that it afforded him.

One particular woman whom he did not know was staring or glaring at him with such venom he wanted to slink away with his tail between his legs. Loki provided a distraction by forcing Faolán to take care of the confused chick, she just wanted to sleep!

The prince could only hope this would work, of course lunch would not be enough. As he watched Faolán rather grimly fed bits of egg to the raven who happily gobbled down the golden chunks of yolk, a thought occurred to him. The perfect means of distraction (that was not sexual, thought it could be).

“I wish to spar with you,” Loki said, the warrior choked on air, “Unless you have more important plans?” the prince grinned.

No of course Faolán didn’t have other plans, now he wished he took Otmar on his offer to go hunting this afternoon. There was no good that came from sparring with Loki, just thinking about it made his cock stir. No nope, no, he shouldn’t, he couldn’t!

“I don’t think that is such a good idea,” Faolán mumbled focusing on the chick that was sat on the table between them.

Loki being prone to mischief leaned in a little, “You need not fear, I shall not use my full physical strength,” Faolán ducked his head trying not to picture the prince pinning him down. Yeah, that was a failed endeavour.

“You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?” Faolán asked his cheeks crimson. Loki chuckled saying nothing that glint in his eye said everything that needed to be said. He was lost, seeing Loki in his full battle regalia always did things to him, though at this point he was certain Loki would wear sackcloth and still turn him on.

“I’m fucked,” he muttered.

“Not yet,” Loki laughed when Faolán buried his face in his hands his face, ears and neck a wonderful shade of crimson.

  
Standing in the training ring (the raven was happily nestled in layers and layers of leather and fur protected against kidnapping by magic) both warriors faced one another.

Faolán wasn’t too sure about this, on one hand yeah he would be excited to be given the chance to spar against royalty. On the other hand Loki stripped down to simple leather trousers and a deep green tunic did things to him that he knew would become obvious in a matter of time.

Meanwhile, Loki glanced at the clock, Thor would still be speaking in the courts unless he had gotten bored and bludgeoned those besmirching Faolán. Since there was no cries of anguish or jubilation Loki would have to assume that everyone was alive and well.

“I think we should keep the rules simple,” Loki grinned, “The first to hit the ground looses.” Faolán nodded, “And please, do not think of holding back otherwise this shall be over too soon. I do like to take my time with my prey.”

The tone, the implication, the look in the gods eye, it all was too much for Faolán who needed a minute to collect the shattered remains of his sanity.

Once he was certain he picked up a pair of practice swords while Loki settled for a spear. Faolán had a brief few seconds to appreciate the way Loki easily handled the spear before the prince charged him.

To say that Loki was surprised was a gross understatement, Loki was not just surprised he was shocked that Faolán was able to block each of his blows even as switched to using his tried and trusty daggers. Thor hadn’t been wrong about Faolán’s talents in battle, while Loki might have had superior strength he would admit had he not that strength he would have lost.

Thankfully when finesse was no longer an option he could always rely on that crude brute strength. With great difficulty he grabbed the warrior by the throat and slammed him down into the ground frustrated that he had not gotten one hit on the man since their match began.

Faolán wheezed, awed by the strength though slightly worried the action had turned him on. This was becoming a thing he realised, “Fuck,” he wheezed snapping Loki out of his own frustration.

He had not meant to injure Faolán, now he was worried that he may have caused some serious damage as the warrior just lay there in the soft ground. Kneeling down beside Faolán he asked, “Are you injured.”

“Nooo,” Faolán shook his head his cheeks burning, “I uh,” He sat up, “No I am fine,” he said while looking dead ahead not daring to meet Loki’s eye, “Completely fine, how are you?”

“Did you hit your head?” Loki asked.

“No, well maybe a little, but I am not fragile like a mortal,” Faolán said shuffling slightly, Loki caught on and that laughter made Faolán burn hotter. “Norns have mercy.”

“Or you could worship a different god,” Loki’s purr only made Faolán’s arousal worse,“I do enjoy seeing my devotees on their knees.”

Nobody could blame Faolán for just staring at the god-prince.

Thor thankfully arrived to save Faolán from his confusion, “Brother I had searched all over for you, imagine my surprise to find you here with Faolán no less!”

They both stood, Faolán was suddenly very grateful for the long grey tunic he wore. “I do on occasion spar with worthy opponents,” Loki said folding his arms across his chest.

“Indeed, there are few more skilled than Faolán,” the older prince praised which left Faolán with an odd suspicion rather than pride, there was something in their combined expression that did not sit right with him. “But I must ask to speak to my brother privately.”

“Of course,” Faolán nodded and taking the weapons back to their racks before leaving the training halls. It was late anyway.

The moment those doors shut Thor turned to Loki, “I did as you asked, but I cannot say whether it was enough to sway the courts,” Loki frowned. Usually whenever Thor praised someone all of Asgard listened, Asgard would snap their spines bending over backwards to please him. “There is a chance he may be dismissed from the Einherjar still.”

“That is not good enough,” Loki said which naturally made Thor curious.

“Brother are you bedding him?” Thor asked.

“Regretfully no, he has so far he has rejected any invitations to join me in my bed,” The prince muttered.

“Regretfully?” Thor asked, “I was unaware that people rejected you.”

“He has not rejected me, in fact he has made his feelings towards me quite clear,” Loki said.

Thor stared at Loki who stared back, “You like him,”

“He is handsome and tolerable,” Loki said gathering his clothes and gently slipping the raven back into its own pocket.

Thor continued to stare, “Is that why you are doing this? Because you aim to sleep with him?”

“No you fool, I am doing this because I think it is a crime that he should be punished for something that was not his fault,” Loki snapped before regaining his composure, “And if that means at the end of this he expresses his gratitude by sucking my cock well-”

“-Alright I understand,” Thor said walking away from the conversation while Loki and his mocking laughter fell in step beside him, “In truth I am not sure how we are going to pull this victory off.”

“We have faced much worse,” Loki argued, which was true.

“But they were never the people in charge of our justice and political systems,” Thor said which made Loki pause and wonder when Thor became so conscious about the politics of Asgard. “I long for the days when Mjölnir was enough to solve our troubles.”

“Oh give it time dear brother I am certain she will have her part to play in this…” Loki paused noticing Faolán standing in another room speaking to a woman.

One of the many rooms in the palace which could be decorated and redecorated to suit different purposes. Last week it hosted a heated debate amongst the librarians. He pulled Thor back before the idiot come to give them away.

The woman in question was his mother Lady Dísella who was a rather stunning sight in her own rights, her curved figure and beauty was something she used to her advantage often. It was highly unusual to see them together but now that they were standing together it was clear to see the obvious relation between them.

“-course if I had known you were politically inclined,” Dísella said they had missed most of the conversation it seemed.

“I am not nor have I ever been mother,” Faolán insisted and both princes could attest to that.

“Then be a dear and explain to your mother how you have managed to convince Prince Thor to speak on your behalf,” Dísella inquired.

“I did not, I was not even aware he spoke on my behalf,” Faolán said firmly standing his ground however Dísella merely sighed.

“Well he did, and I would like it to stop,” Dísella snapped, Thor looked to Loki who had no idea what was going on either. Surely a woman as politically savvy as Dísella would welcome their support of her son?

“I cannot sway a prince,” Faolán said sounding more nervous now.

“Of that I am aware,” Dísella said taking a moment to consider, “If you plead guilty and accept the charges then this nonsense will be over.”

“And I will be disgraced with a chance of being exiled from Asgard,” Faolán retorted.

“That is not my problem, you created this mess by being lax, and now you must face the consequences,” she snapped at Faolán who shrunk slightly.

Loki could not stop his brother from barging onto the scene, “Perhaps you should ask why it is that the courts are working so hard to prove your son guilty of a crime he did not commit.”

It couldn’t be ignored how sheepish Faolán looked as both princes and his mother faced off, “Oh I am aware of the politics, Signar is to become the captain and since Faolán is too stubborn or stupid to rescind the offer to become captain of the courts have decided to conspire against him!”

“I have rescinded my offer of captaincy,” Faolán insisted which he had, until Loki interfered.

“Yes however Prince Loki interceded on your behalf it seems, so now there are talks of you being made Captain again,” Dísella explained coolly.

“Then I shall speak to the commander personally,” Faolán said bowing to his own mother and then the princes before leaving the room.

Both princes were confused, “Surely you would want your son to be Captain?” Thor asked deeply confused.

“No, your highness I do not. Faolán is not suited to such a life nor should he be considered Captain material,” She replied.

“I have had the pleasure of fighting by his side my lady I know he is more than skilled to become captain. I would go so far as to suggest that he could become General one day,” Thor said surprising Loki, but Dísella seemed to recoil at the idea.

“No he would not,” she said keeping her posture perfect, her sneer venomous and her contempt in check.

“So you would rather be stripped of his title and his home?” Thor asked utterly confused.

“Yes,” Dísella said, “Because that is better than the alternative, now you must excuse me I have a trade engagement to attend.”

The woman swept out of the room her opulent plum dress and cloak fluttering behind her as she stalked down the hall. Without a doubt she was formidable and capable of dominating a room, but neither prince had ever encountered her anger before.

“We should stop Faolán,” Thor said and charged off towards the commanders' office, Loki wasn’t so certain he chased after Thor confused and concerned over what just happened and why.

They were too late Faolán had long since left the office by the time Thor barged in forcing the command to stand out of slight fright and propriety, “You should not rescind Faolán's application to become a Captain!”

“It wasn’t your highness,” the captain sighed running a hand through his Blond hair.

“Faolán might not realise it, but he is perfectly suited to the position of Captain and… you said it wasn’t?” Thor realised utterly confused.

“No, Faolán did come to speak to me about some matters that are confidential, but he is still in the running for Captain,” The commander sat himself back down, “He requested that I rescind the application many months ago, but I never acquiesced to his request. I admitted as much and talked him out of his stupidity.”

“What are his chances?” Thor asked breathing a confused sigh of relief.

“Now that he is rather motivated in the position?” The commander mused to himself, “Why I say he has a good chance of winning this, though I dare not think what Ulrich will make of this.”

“What does his father have to do with this?” Loki asked.

“It was Ulrich who began the proceedings to have his son disgracefully discharged from the Einherjar,” Both princes turned to one another, “And I do not understand why, though I suspect envy and jealously have a part to play.”

Loki left while Thor continued to interrogate the sympathetic commander, it made no sense to him why both parents would work so hard against their own son. It seemed out of character for both people, Dísella who craved power and the boastful Ulrich who should be lording it over everyone that his son was so beloved and respected as a warrior.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost crashed into Faolán who was standing by the huge windows overlooking the garden.

“I would like to understand what happened this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” Faolán sighed, “But first I want to show you something.”

Amusing him (and curiosity getting the better of him) Loki followed the warrior into the gardens until they reached a yet untamed area. Loki was curious as to what they were doing here, Faolán gently took his hand and placed a bunch of nuts and seeds into his palm. This was not where he hoped this would go, but he watched curious to see what would happen next.

Swiftly a robin bright chest and fat with food landed upon his thumb then hopped down into his palm checking out Faolán then Loki then it began to eat. Each peck made Loki smile, he could not explain what was endearing about this tiny bird, but he loved it anyway.

“I like robins,” Faolán confessed Loki turned his attention back to Faolán who was still holding onto his hand while the Robin ate its meal, “They’re stubborn, territorial and kick the arses of everything bigger than them. They have so much character but everyone ignores them in favour of bigger and grander birds.”

“I am sure they appreciate your attentions little wolf,” Loki smiled, Faolán ducked his head grinning missing the softness in Loki’s expression.

“I’d like to think so,” he whispered softly, the robin trilled demanding more food, lucky for it Faolán had the seeds ready to dispense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised that when I post on this website I loose formatting, so there are no bolded or Italic words. I will try and go back and edit this when I have the time later on (hopefully). Not only that, but I have done my best to edit and proofread this chapter! 
> 
> So being an idiot I accidentally wrote in Chapter two/Three that Faolán's mother's name is Dagga instead of Dísella, I have since corrected my error. The moral of the story, don't try to write four fanfic's at once! Unless you're one of those talented glorious bastards that can manage that!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://void-knights.tumblr.com/)


	4. We’re going on a spider hunt

The date for the royal house of Vanaheim to visit Asgard was looming ever nearer and Loki was plotting his revenge against Ulrika. Faolán therefore had been gifted the raven to look after while Loki went about Asgard plotting and scheming.

“Nice raven,” Otmar said as Faolán fed the raven pieces of bacon rind he decided to spoil it after putting up with the princes ranting early in the morning, “Never seen one that colour before.”

“It is caused by leucism not albinism,” Faolán said feeding Hvítingr more fatty rind.

⸢ _ Yum yum yum yum yum _ ⸥ it wound say after every beak full making Faolán laugh, nobody would believe him if he told them. ⸢ _ More! _ ⸥

“We use manners in this palace,” He chastised Hvítingr who ruffled her feathers at him annoyed.

⸢ _ Please may I have more _ ⸥ she corrected herself, so he fed her the last of the rind, ⸢ _ Yum yum yum yum yum _ ⸥ she repeated once more making him laugh. Otmar looked on bewildered, he was used to Faolán reacting to animals in odd ways.

“If you two have finished?” Otmar hoped because he would rather like to get back to his family in time for lunch. As charming as Faolán was he was nothing compared to his family.

“Sorry what were you saying?” Faolán asked walking with Otmar once again through the palace, he was on his way to return Hvítingr to Loki who by now should be finished plotting. Hopefully.

“Thought you’d like to know, Signar’s up to something, keep an eye out will ya?” Otmar asked worried about Faolán.

Signar was not above using dirty tactics to have someone dismissed from the Einherjar on his way to captaincy. He would cripple, poison him or kill Faolán to get what he wanted, according to those that licked his shiny shoes  _ Signar never failed to get what he wanted _ .

For someone so prone to honesty and generally being a touch too kind for his own good Faolán would most likely be easy prey outside the battlefield. It was lucky he was so well liked by so many within the Einherjar, though the same could be said for Signar – no that was wrong! Signar wasn’t liked he just bribed or blackmail people until they did as he said or wanted.

“Thank you I’ll keep an eye open, but I have my doubts he will try something so obvious. Give Heidi and Úlfar my love will you?” He said with a half smile, he could not completely hide his anxieties.

“Aye lad, Heidi would have you over but Úlfar has this weird stomach complain you Asgardians get,” Otmar wrinkled his nose, “I’ve never seen anyone – not even the drunkest dwarf projectile vomit  _ that _ far.”

“Lovely,” Faolán grimaced.

“Just wanted to leave you with a nice parting gift,” Otmar laughed patting him on the back as they went their separate ways.

It should have occurred to Faolán who politely knocked on Loki’s chamber doors before entering that perhaps the prince  _ might  _ not yet be finished with his schemes. Fabric swatches, samples and various beads, gems and metals were spread out all over what was once a parlour.

Now the parlour was a tribute to the insane schemes of a trickster god who briefly greeted Faolán who was struggling to process the fact that Loki looked fucking adorable with his hair tied back alongside the utter chaos of the surrounding room. So Faolán started with the chaos, the chaos was a much more simple subject to tackle, or he so wrongly assumed.

“So… you are struggling to find fabric?” He began flipping through a book of fabric samples as thick as his own thigh – he did not have slender thighs much to his annoyance, sometimes they chafed.

“Fabric? No, this is about a dress,” Loki fumed, “It was supposed to be perfect, and then I hear Ulrika has undermined me! She had decided to show up to the winter festival wearing green!”

Now Faolán who had not been raised as a high-born should have, did not understand why one princess could not wear the same colour as another, assuming Loki would be a woman  _ and _ wearing a dress. But he wasn’t stupid, instead he was possessed of common sense, so he tossed the question aside and instead sat himself down once Hvítingr was placed inside her playpen where she amused herself on her swing.

The prince spoilt his companion and it showed. Yet it was just another thing that Faolán adored about the prince.

Loki turned to Faolán irritated, “I am no expert on fashion,” Faolán began to say, that was most obvious who paid him a moments notice.

The sharp glare from Loki made the warrior a touch nervous, thankfully Hvítingr provided a brief distraction by getting her swing stuck in her small decorative tree which was a real tree shrunk down for the playpen it smelt pleasingly of pine.

“B-but I would assume that most – if not all people within Asgard would think it petty that Ulrika serves to undermine you in such an obvious way,” he managed to untangle the swing allowing the raven to swing freely again, “It’s hardly subtle.”

If Faolán had noticed it right away than any idiot could at least that is what Faolán told himself. A pity he didn’t notice Loki approaching him until the prince cupped his face and kissed him, so deeply it left the warrior weak in the knees and breathless. He was pressed up against a wall or something just as tall – he didn’t notice or care because Loki was kissing him  _ again _ .

It was a sweetly vicious sort of kiss that allowed Loki to dominate him completely, the princes hands slipped down upon Faolán’s hips keeping the warrior pinned. Faolán’s entire body thrummed as the prince slowly pulled away from him, adrenaline and excitement coursed through his body as Loki peppered sinful hot breathy soft open kisses along his mouth and jaw.

Faolán smiled his cheeks glowing as he strung together a series of garbled sounds that were as likely some point meant to be words, thankfully Loki had more control over his thoughts and feelings, “You are right, though I could not see it for I allowed myself to obsess over the wrong aspect of this mess.”

Some sense eventually returned to Faolán as Loki released his hold of him, running a nervous hand through his hair Faolán asked, “So you know how to best your… rival?”

“She is no rival, she is a flea, a parasite that – can you speak to insects?”

“Yes?”

“Fascinating,” Loki hummed before returning to his rant about the perfect dress, Faolán sat down and listened so Hvítingr didn’t have to. Ravens did not know anything about dresses and therefore could not offer advice. Faolán didn’t know anything either, but he knew when to nod, smile and agree. “I suppose it would mean that you would need to attend this festival, if you truly hope to become captain.”

Politics. Faolán screwed up his face which Loki found oddly adorable, like an annoyed wolf cub learning how to use all of his paws, “Unfortunately, Commander Diðrik recommended that I make an appearance.”

“I see,” Loki said staring at Faolán, “And your tailor?”

“I shall be wearing my armour,” Faolán said tossing Hvítingr a puzzle to solve lest she start thinking she could make off with the many pearls scattered around the parlour.

“Pity,” Loki said because the prince could imagine a well cut set of robes in the deepest greens suiting Faolán greatly something not to bold yet bold enough to make him stand out and be noticed. It was not just a matter of personal pride and possessiveness, Faolán would genuinely look good in green, “Is it not arrogance to assume that you will emerge victorious from this trail?” Loki asked.

“Probably, but I am confident ever since Prince Thor spoke on my behalf,” Faolán shrugged, “I… should have thanked you for that, I am sorry.”

“No, I meddled when I should have let things be,” Loki sighed running his knuckled over Faolán’s bearded jaw. He had come to enjoy the neatly trimmed short beard that only made him more handsome, usually he tended to avoid men with beards. A piece of Faolán's tattoo peeked out over the high collar on the right ride of the warriors neck.

“Well I am grateful for your meddling your highness,” Faolán smiled.

“Why do you remain so formal?” Loki asked tilting Faolán’s head backwards, the muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed his nerves. Then before he could do anything the prince kissed him so deeply that Faolán was certain he was floating on nothing but pleasure. There was no fight, only submission to the prince who rather liked taking advantage of the eager Faolán.

Loki pulled away a feral grin gracing his lips, “I rather enjoy it,” he confessed his voice a deep guttural snarl. Faolán was to busy staring at Loki’s mouth to notice anything the prince had said, “I think the mulberry silk,” the prince said kissing Faolán once again keeping his jaw in one hand before returning to his scheming, “Forget the pearls, I detest them, perhaps opal, but where would one find opal in winter?”

“Why not use the silk of the greater winter spider?” Faolán asked his brain regaining full functionality, he might not know much about fashion but even the lowliest fool knew that the silk that  _ every  _ high-born and royal house craved was that of the greater winter spider.

“Had I the resources, time and manpower to track down one of the rarest creatures in the nine realms  _ and _ have a team skilled enough to harvest its silk before it slaughters said team I would of course do it,” Loki sighed it would take him months if not years, the quantity required to make a single dress would require visiting many spider nests.

“I usually find offering them tea in trade for their silk keeps them contented,” Faolán said handing Hvítingr one of the snacks that Loki was experimenting with (they were the princes own creation) the raven spat it out. So the berry flavour was a no-go, maybe they had spoilt her with all that bacon?

Loki had been silent for too long so Faolán looked up and nearly fell off his stool, Loki was standing there a look so deadly in his glimmering emerald eye it really should not under _any_ circumstance turn him on. But it did. It well and truly did.

“Are you telling me that you not only know where to locate one of these spiders, but you can find enough silk to make a dress?”

“Yeah they all hang out in elder woods, their queen has the soldiers dispose of all the excess silk she produces,” Faolán said realising how foolish he sounded.

A wicked part of Loki realised that here was Faolán with access to the silk of the winter spider, no  _ the  _ silk of the  _ winter spider queen  _ and not once had Lady Dísella taken advantage of that. Nor had Faolán but Faolán was sitting in well-worn leather trousers, boots and a tunic with a hole in the elbow, so he clearly did not care about such things.

It wasn’t just about the fashion, the silk itself could be used in many spells, binding spells in particular or a base for some of the most deadly poisons.

Faolán didn’t like the spider silk because he had seen where it came from, he shuddered briefly at the memory. “And you suggest tea would assist me in getting what I want?” Loki asked.

“You can’t just barge in on the Queen, she’ll be protecting her slings,” Faolán pointed out, he had once made her angry, thankfully he had the means to communicate, and they talked through his mishap, and she accepted his apology mos graciously.

Loki loomed ever nearer boxing Faolán in, the warrior could only grab his stool and lean as far back as possible without tipping over, “Have you forgotten to whom you’re speaking?” Loki asked before slowly pulling away from Faolán who was a mess. He was caught between fear and arousal, why did the prince illicit all these feelings within him?

“O-of course not, I would suggest bringing Vanaheim tea, they prefer the sweeter pink teas,” Faolán said realising how stupid it sounded, so he was relieved that the prince nodded believing him. He was going to feel foolish if those spiders had moved house. “I suggest warm clothes, the elder woods can turn as cold as Jötunheim in the deepest parts.”

“And what would you know of Jötunheim?” Loki asked his heckles raised which confused Faolán.

“Not much, I have was assigned to escort a group of researchers on two separate occasions. I know the moths on Jötunheim are big, and they have rather pleasant frogs that will talk until Ragnarök befalls us if you allow them,” Faolán said with a fond smile before finishing with, “ _ And _ it’s cold.”

“So I heard,” Loki said unable to help himself, he changed the topic fearful where this conversation might lead, “How much tea should I bring for all this silk?”

“Uh… I don’t know? I just brought them tea whenever they asked me to?” Faolán said handing Hvítingr another puzzle to solve.

“How do spiders know about tea?” Loki asked, it seemed a rather odd combination especially when it came to spiders that were only sighted in the wilds of the winter season.

“Because rats are terrible gossips?” Faolán said as though that made sense, Loki hated that it somehow made sense.

“And what terribly important gossip do rats spread?” Loki asked while Faolán fed the raven a treat for solving the puzzle. She did not want the green treats either, yep that had spoilt her she demanded bacon rinds as a prize.

“Lady Gestheiður is having an affair with her brother-in-law Lord Oddur who takes excessive amounts of supplemental medication to cure his erectile issues which is apparently a common complaint in older Vanir men,” Faolán said glad he was not Vanir.

“If you were not so plagued with honesty I might think you are a liar,” Loki said already filing that important piece of information away for later, “How can you know that a rat is a trustworthy source?”

“What purpose would a bunch of rats talking in the palace walls lie about our society?” Faolán asked trying to tempt Hvítingr with an orange treat she turned her beak up at the treat. Now all Loki could wonder was whether there were rats in his wall and what they might be saying about him, he turned to Faolán who’s eyes widened in realisation, “They have only mentioned that they find your scent odd, no doubt because you are a shapeshifter.”

“And is that all they say of me?” why was he so concerned with the opinions of rats?

“They also think you have the best wine in the palace,”

“They have consumed my wine?” Loki asked.

They both stared at the decanter resting on his desk, “I hope not,” Faolán shuddered. Loki had the sudden urge to purge his entire stock of wine and rebuild it from the ground up.

*****

Loki had rather built up this adventure in her head about what it would be like, she had always favoured the elder woods for they were imbued with magic so ancient it potentially predated the era of Bor. It was a bewildering place that would happily lure unsuspecting visitors to their doom. It was the reason she had never ventured too deep into deep dark woods, even Loki feared what lurked in this vast dark woods.

Faolán had never had such fears, he had never heard the tales, never felt the touch of it’s magic as it attempted to lure him down to his death in the cold dark depths where even the sun did not dare to venture. As a boy it was _ the _ perfect place to hide when his life was miserable. Nobody had ever dared to look for him in the woods, sometimes he wondered if his parents would have cared if he had returned at all.

Such thoughts left him when Loki finally arrived, he had been waiting by the woods expecting the prince to show up and instead was greeted with the sight of the princess in her usual battle regalia and a white fur coat so thick she resembled a strange sort of polar bear.

Would never dare admit it out loud in fear that she may break his spine but with the coat shut tight only the top of her head showed, and it was utterly adorable. Her cheeks had pinked with the cold and her hair while flawless as ever had begun to curl as snow melted in those raven locks.

“You are staring,” Loki pointed out glancing up at the massive spires of wood that signalled the start of woodlands, with her magic they should be safe.

Ducking his head Faolán tried not to think any inappropriate thoughts, sadly there was something oddly attractive about Loki in a fur coat… maybe it was just Loki who had this effect upon him?

“Yes right um, this way,” Faolán said about to take off when Loki took hold of his elbow. Her grip strength gave him pause, she could easily crush his bones and not break a sweat.

“You are just going to casually stroll into the woods?” Loki asked slightly worried about Faolán’s lack of self-preservation.

The armour he wore, mostly leathers and chain mail would offer no protection against magical attacks. Had he his Einherjar armour he might stand a chance?

“Yes,” he said confused, “If we take this path-” Loki did not see a path, just a half worn track “-it will take us to the heart of the woods.”

“We are to venture to the heart of the woodlands?” Loki needed to know, she had not prepared for that. She placed down a marker, should they not return Heimdall will be notified, hopefully they would not long dead before Odin sprung into action.

Not sure why Loki was worried Faolán watched her set down rune stones of such complex designs he could not help but marvel at each one of them.

“Your highness,” he said once she had finished her incantations, “I would not willingly place you in danger,” he needed her to know this for reasons that he did not quite understand.

“I am aware,” Loki said rising to her full height, even as a woman she was taller than Faolán, her height had been boosted by heels that were probably not the best for walking through a wooded area. Faolán trusted the princess that she knew what she was doing with her footwear and began to walk into the forest.

He did his best not to stare, here he was alone with Loki in the woods, if the princess were not so on edge about magical forces he could feel perhaps the atmosphere between them would be different.

For a moment Loki hesitated before following Faolán who waited for her to catch up. An issue soon became clear that while Faolán was happy to walk in silence Loki felt the urge to talk, it wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with the silence that loomed around her, it was that she felt it odd for two people to walk so long in complete silence.

“I rather like the fact you have not questioned why today I am a woman,” she began, just trying anything to begin a conversation while Faolán offered his gloved hand to her, so she could more easily step off of a small cliff. He did his best not to stare at her long shapely pale legs, even beneath leather and fabric… no, he would not stare!

“Is there a special reason why you are a woman?” Faolán felt odd asking that why would it matter? But Loki had been the one to bring it up, so perhaps there was some sort of meaning behind the change?

“I thought it's best to speak to a queen as a woman,” Loki said changing her boots, it had been a rather silly idea to wear heels, though seeing Faolán’s reaction had paid for any grievance they had caused.

“It is a myth that female spiders commonly eat the males after mating, the males usually die after copulation and sometimes during,” Faolán just blurted out for reasons that would forever remain a mystery.

Loki could not work out whether that particular outburst was adorable or odd on Faolán’s part, “Has it been so long since you last courted a woman?” Loki asked, he failed to understand the connection. There wasn’t one, Loki just liked to tease him he turned a rather fetching shade of red whenever teased.

He laughed nervously, “It is  _ that  _ obvious?”

“Or you are simply the most terrible flirt?” Loki pondered.

“That is the more likely reason,” Faolán agreed taking a right where Loki was compelled to go left, when Loki paused at the fork Faolán gently reached for her hand as there was no way the princess would feel his touch through that ridiculously thick coat. “This way,” he gestured gently tugging her hand before releasing it.

“Do you not feel the magic in this place?” Loki asked while they walked onwards.

“I have no magical talent,” Faolán said, but that is not what Loki asked, one did not need magic to feel its influence. He took a right hopping over a small stream while Loki felt the urge to follow the stream, “I do not speak to flora and fungi, just fauna.”

“Yes,” Loki said narrowing her eyes at him, that was also not what she asked. Either he was hiding something or ignorant to her question, given that it was Faolán she leaned more towards the latter rather than the former.

“So um, where is Hvítingr?” Faolán asked, the woods were becoming so dense and dark Loki needed to conjure a light to see the surrounding area. It baffled her how Faolán was capable of navigating this place without magic.

“Oh she is the star attraction to my mothers luncheon, Frigga believes that she can train Hvítingr into pouring cups of tea and dining using plates” Loki answered. Faolán grinned which pleased the princess.

Above them the trees extended so far Loki was certain they rivalled the spires of the golden city. They continued downhill until the princess thought it strange they had not magically ended up walking out of the realm and into the void of space. A place she was not so keen to revisit anytime soon.

“We have rather spoilt Hvítingr with bacon,” Faolán agreed, Loki rather liked the sound of that  _ we, _ though she refused to admit her precious pet was spoilt. Hvítingr was treated as any royal companion should be! If Muninn and Huginn could drink mead and gossip like a pair of old women then Hvítingr could have bacon!

“Nonsense, she is pet royalty she only deserves the best,” Loki’s tone made Faolán smile, so proud and authoritative.

“They do say pets resemble their owners,” he mused.

“Are suggesting that I am spoilt and in need of puzzles and conversation to constantly amuse myself?” well Faolán thought Loki might need puzzles to amuse herself, spoilt possibly and conversation? Probably.

“I might be suggesting that you are a unique beauty who shines brightly in a sea of dull beings. A power who suffers no rivals nor equals in her skill and intelligence?” He offered instead feeling bold.

“Well it appears you  _ do _ have a talent for flirtation after all little wolf,” Loki praised, slightly impressed by his sudden boldness.

“Or I’m just being honest,” he answered only to be thanked with a brief chaste kiss, as a woman Loki’s lips were softer, painted green her lipstick left a mark upon his own lips. He blushed a deep crimson.

“You are adorable,” Loki would never tire of seeing Faolán blush for her. The warrior walked onwards which left the princess grinning to herself, adorable indeed, if he had a tail it would be wagging.

Taking a moment to survey the area Faolán used the time to collect his scattered thoughts meanwhile Loki wondered whether this was where the warrior was going to admit he was lost – no Faolán knew the way. So he continued onwards until his shivering became, so drastic Loki began to worry.

“It is not usually this cold,” Faolán shivered in his armour wishing he had worn a few extra layers, would he ever learn his lesson when it came to the winter season?

Loki barely felt it, but she knew it must be serious if Faolán complained, he never complained about anything until it was nearly killing or crippling him. Asgardian men were like that, stubborn, at times reckless with their own healthy and safety herself included, but those that dedicated themselves to battle took it too far.

“I hope you are properly prepared this time,” Loki teased though she was concerned he might rekindle old wounds if left too cold for too long. The rot was cured, but it had a nasty habit of never truly leaving the host, it could return and cripple Faolán or worse. It was odd that he was so vulnerable to the winter, and it’s cold.

Faolán was not immune to the stubbornness and pride that plagued all Aesir (especially the warriors), “I am not so fragile that I shall shatter at the first sign of frost,” he complained wishing he did not appear so weak in front of Loki.

“Perhaps not but the roots of rime rot will still be tangled around your bones for years to come,” Loki warned him concerned he might try to do something reckless to prove himself capable. He was capable but he was also at risk.

“Well next time I will be careful enough to wear  _ two  _ woollen vests,” he replied easily vaulting over a fallen log just to show off and perhaps prove he was not so fragile. Loki rolled her eyes.

“You are too reckless with your health,” Loki chided as they continued along their route.

“I appreciate your concern your highness, but I assure you I am in good health,” Faolán answered taking a moment to study their surroundings. This deep into the woods it might as well be the middle of the night in early winter.

“You need not be so stubborn,” the princess sighed exacerbated by his stubbornness, she was once again beginning to question Faolán’s self-preservation skills while said warrior began down a steep slope.

The deeper they descended, the colder it became, it would not threaten their lives but Faolán really wished he wore an additional layer or two now. Tired of seeing him shiver Loki attempted to wrap her fur coat around him, he wouldn’t have it, claiming she needed it more than him.

Loki needed it as much as she needed a gangrenous foot, it was merely decoration, “You need to keep warm,” Faolán insisted trying to stop her from covering him in the ridiculous thing. He failed miserably and the result made Loki laugh, if it were too big for her Faolán almost vanished in the fluffy coat completely. Only the top part of his head and feet were visible (because he was holding up the coat to prevent it getting dirty).

Whatever Faolán said got lost in the fur, he was overheating, the coat must be enchanted or something because there was no possible way for fur on its own to be  _ this  _ warm. He had to escape the furnace, “I don’t think it suits me,” he joked or attempted to, saying that he was melting would probably make the princess worry.

“Oh I don’t know little wolf, I think you look quite adorable in this coat of mine,” Loki purred gripping the front of the coat and pulling him close, she breathed him in he smelled of spice and sandalwood a strangely intoxicating melody that felt rather comfortable and warm, before gently kissing him.

He still blushed, his tan cheeks turning a pleasant rosy shade that utterly delighted Loki who tugged him closer. “I could keep you like this to myself until the end of time and space itself.”

“I-um wouldn’t complain about that,” he admitted surprising them both, why did he say such stupid things when flustered? “ _ Norns _ ,” he bumbled before happily returning the coat to Loki so that he did not completely overheat, “It’s not far from here.”

Loki smiled to herself delighted by the admission though she did not dare to think upon  _ why  _ it delighted her.

Together they continued to walk until they stepped into a rather large clearing. There was a cave carpeted with moss and the webbing, a babbling brook that carried upon it’s gentle ripples moonlight and frogs, a pile of half-eaten carcasses with silvery webbing hanging up in the canopy of the trees where threads dangled and fluttered in the chilly breeze.

It was all so… contrasting, magical in the silvery light that Loki realised should not be here and distributing. She needed to know from where the light was coming from, it had no heat, no warmth, a winters moon perhaps? This far and deep into the woods she doubted it.

As they approached the cave Loki watched in fascination as Faolán spoke with a spider who had come out to toss away webbing just like the warrior had said, Loki could buy two horses with that much webbing. The spider reached out to tap Faolán’s outstretched palm with it’s foreleg. It clicked and hissed as Faolán insisted that Loki was not here to kill the queen or out her resting place. After a moments deliberation and a gift of tea from Loki (which the spider carried on top of it’s head) it skittered away.

She could not fathom whether that was a good reaction or a terrible one, were they about to be preyed upon? Who knew what else lurked in these woods?

“He wants us to follow him,” Faolán said, while it wasn’t usually considered a good idea to follow a bunch of venomous creatures deep into their lair Loki’s plans on the perfect dress relied on these creatures and their webbing silk.

If things worsened and the beasts attacked she would burn them all alive and escape with her webbing a dead queen and Faolán. She hoped it would not come to that, Faolán would surely disapprove.

After many turns and twists which probably served to confused captured prey rather than guests who brought tea, the pair ended up in what would have to be a central chamber. The stone walls were completely hidden by silver webbing that glittered better than any gemstone. Loki wanted to bury her hands in that silk, the magical energy she felt emanating from it was incredible.

Loki expected the queen to be bigger than her soldiers who were the size of a hunting hound, but she had not expected the queen to be  _ that  _ big. How had a young Faolán not been terrified of this thing? Loki knew if she had seen this as a young child she would have refused to go into the woods ever again. One of its fangs were bigger than she was.

Faolán introduced Loki and the queen, the queen hissed and clicked which could have been seen as threatening but Faolán seemed relaxed so there obviously was no threat, at least she hoped there was no threat. Loki could read people, pinpoint their weaknesses and strike them down, but spiders, she could not read spiders.

“The princess wishes to take your excess silk away,” Faolán explained to the queen who regarded him then Loki carefully. His phrasing was direct and simple, probably made so to better help the spider understand. She had noticed he automatically changed his speech patterns depending on which animal or creature he spoke to.

Then the Queen spider began to hiss and click, her entire body vibrated until her silver-blue hairs shivered and trembled. That seemed like a threat, yet Faolán stood calmly as though discussing the weather with an aesir.

“She says we can take as much as you want, she’ll even have the soldiers cut it for you,” Faolán said.

For a moment Loki stood surprised, “I expected… something more?” but what did she expect? A lecture? An argument, a spirited debate? A fight? A drastic escape with armfuls of webbing?

“Why?” Faolán asked as they followed a group of excited spiders towards a huge wall of silk, the spiders were already cutting thick layers away. According to Faolán they were confused but delighted to be rid of the excessive webbing.

In truth Loki didn’t know how to answer Faolán, “I had assumed we may need to negotiate for it at least?” after all that is how business was usually conducted.

“They’re spiders, not politicians,” Faolán laughed softly not in a mocking manner but a fond way, try as she might Loki had no reasonable argument against that point. What need would spiders have of coin? What need would spiders have of tea?

“What do they use the tea for?” Loki asked Faolán as they watched the spiders work.

“Apparently the leaves make a great fertilizer,” Faolán said, Loki would remember that to pass along to Frigga, she had been complaining that her roses were looking terribly depressed as of late.

Years and years of webbing layers were cut and folded until Loki was left with so much silk she wondered if she could make a dress for each season with this and then more. The queen spoke to Faolán again appearing from who knew where which only made Loki much more suspicious. How could she not have heard the spider queen stalking them? It seemed she was looking for information, wondering if other Aesir knew of her current location.

Faolán reassured her that no, only he and Loki knew she was here and that Loki was not so familiar with these woods that she could lead others to the queen. Which was partially true, though Faolán seemed unaware or unaffected by the woods magic so unlike Loki who had been compelled to wander off course he never seemed to get lost. She could not lead anyone through here with or without a map, it was magically impossible.

Which was a fascinating problem she wished to solve, but that could come later, now they had a queen to soothe and hopefully escape these woods with their lives and sanity.

The queen invited them to join in on the feasting, Loki was grateful that Faolán manage to convince the spider that they could not linger and should probably get going. Slugs, snails and rats did not appeal one bit. The queen had her soldiers escort them to the edge of her territory, and then they were once again walking through the elder wood with enough silk stored away in Loki’s pocket dimension to equip an entire village in dresses.

“And you assumed we would get lost,” Faolán grinned once they were free of the woods clearly proud of himself. He was looking for praise or gratitude she quickly realised, not that he was bothering to hide it.

“You truly did not feel the pull of the woods magic?” she asked staring up at the ancient trees and wondering how such a thing were possible.

“Maybe if I had magical talent I might have noticed?” Faolán guessed deflating when he realised that perhaps Loki was not so impressed with his skills as he hoped she would be. Magic did not work like that, not that Faolán was aware of that fact. His magical incompetence was stunning.

“Come,” Loki said with a bone weary sigh, “You can join me for lunch.”

“Do you mean dinner?” Faolán asked looking up at the skies, glancing upwards the princess frowned, yes the stars were out, but this was the middle of winter where day was one long night. Surely it could not have been so long that it was now time for evening dinner?

She looked back to the woods confused, how was that possible?

“Yes dinner,” she corrected herself, “And… thank you for today, it has been an oddly pleasant venture.”

If he had a tail it would be wagging, he was too adorable for his own good.

*****

It hadn’t occurred to Faolán how lonely his space in the barracks was until he had begun to spend time in other peoples homes. Einherjar were given the option to live outside the barracks should they choose to, naturally the housing provided depended on your rank within the army and whether the solider in question had dependants.

Those that came from poorer backgrounds tended to stay in the barracks where their food, clothing and other essentials were provided to them. Those high-born were still living in family estates, those in-between were scattered. Faolán was one of the oddballs, being of high-born status he should be living in the family estate.

He couldn’t for various reasons, he had come to find the barracks a much better home.

At least here he could be left alone with his thoughts. He reached over to grab a book on foreign military tactics only to find it missing. Rolling over he peered underneath his bed, once he had pulled out all the books that he oh so carelessly abandoned there he sighed. It wasn’t the one he was looking for, but he set aside the book on flowers for later.

What the spiders had said about making a fertilizer from tea leaves fascinated him.

From there he continued searching his room until he had to call it quits. Faolán had either misplaced the book he was searching for or someone had borrowed it without asking once  _ again _ .

Settling himself down by the window he grabbed the book on spiders instead the book would be returned to him in time if not he could always purchase another. Faolán kicked his feet up onto the window sill and flipped to the page about the properties of various spider silks, he could not understand how someone might turn silk spun by a spider into a dress.

He laughed at the mental image of Loki appearing in a web pretending it was somehow a dress, the crazy part was half of Asgard would adopt it the following season.

They looked to the royal family to set the fashions, Loki’s taste fortunately was often deemed to ‘controversial’ to be adopted by the masses. But never had one of the princesses dresses not been copied or bastardised in some manner come the following season it premiered.

A realisation came to Faolán so suddenly he paused. He spent far too much time thinking about Loki.

Tomorrow he would find a suitable distraction, perhaps preparing a defence for his upcoming trail. Just like that his mood shifted into something heavy and morose.  _ Fuck _ , he had forgotten about the trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments you have would help! Thank you for reading, if you have time you could visit my tumblr. I can't make a promise, but I am going to try hard to update this every week now along with my other fics. 
> 
> | [My Tumblr](https://void-knights.tumblr.com/) | [My Tumblr Fic Masterlist](https://void-knights.tumblr.com/post/639487380316946432/) |


	5. Return to normalcy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should say be mindful of the tags they might be changed at a later date. I will be using a genderfluid Loki in this fic (as they are in the comics) I may also increase the number of chapters at future dates. I am, aiming to update this fic at LEAST every single Sundays, sometimes more.

Loki stared at Faolán, who was trying not to notice the princess staring at him. It had been six days since their trip to the woods, and in that time Loki had got the impression that Faolán was abnormal.

Well, more abnormal than her first impression of him.

“Do you… have to sit there and watch me?” Faolán asked carefully, knowing it would probably end up with Loki twisting his words or turning them to her advantage.

“Yes,” She smiled before running her tongue over her lower lip, “How can someone not be interested in watching a warrior in prime physical condition training?”

Did she have to watch him with _that_ expression? He felt like a rabbit the serpent had finally ensnared that and was slowly suffocating in her hold. Or maybe he was just overheated from training? No, he couldn’t lie to himself. It was Loki who now leaned back to stretch her long legs out. Yep, Loki.

Norns! He mentally cursed as he once again resumed his routine.

Faolán had agreed to be a test subject for Loki. She had noticed something rather odd and wished to study him. At least that is what she claimed, and he had been so happy to agree and spend time in her company that he had not questioned it at first. Now he wasn’t so certain, but at least he got to train in peace more or less.

Loki couldn’t understand why Faolán had been so unaffected by the woodlands, such ancient magic should at least have some sort of effect on him. Her own magic had helped heal him, so magic had some effect on him? It was a confusing mess.

“I think it would be beneficial to remove your tunic… for research,” Loki said.

That did it, Faolán tripped over his own feet stumbling until he regained balance all the while Loki laughed, he was red in the face and neck when he finally regained his balance.

Loki rose to her feet, “Now I am going to toss magic towards you! Please do your best to counter the attacks,” Loki said in a tone that for a moment gave Faolán pause for thought.

“Wait! Does that mean you will toss elemental magic at me or attack me?” Faolán asked, because when those that practised magic said they were going to toss magic at him, they usually meant fire. He did not fancy trying to cut down fire.

“No,” she said with such a wicked smile it left him astonished. He barely gathered enough of his senses to block the attacks in time with his sword. Sort of. The magic thing (ball) exploded upon coming into contact with his sword. The impact left his arms and upper body feeling tingly. It was not a wholly unpleasant feeling.

“Hm? That should have worked,” Loki pondered easily, tossing more magic at Faolán who was certain the princess was no longer studying him but toying with him. She rather enjoyed seeing him fight. He not only had excellent form but was in excellent shape. It made for an alluring view.

“Well, what do you feel?” she asked blithely half an hour later when he was close to collapse. 

“Exhausted?” Faolán answered. He was partially horny, well very horny, and exhausted, having Loki attack him should not be as arousing as it was yet here they were, he on one knee chest heaving and breathless while trying to get himself under control. This time he had nothing to cover his obvious arousal.

Loki should take mercy upon the warrior. It was the decent thing to do, but she could not pass up the opportunity to tease that which he was trying so poorly to hide. 

“You don’t appear that exhausted my poor wolf,” she purred, stepping towards him. Each click of her heels heralded his potential impending doom.

“Norns, is this some sort of punishment?” Faolán was talking to himself. He realised shouldn’t have said a single word, Loki had a gift with words and could twist them to suit her purposes.

Loki’s grin made him want to flee, Danger!!! His primal instincts screamed as the princess hooked her fingers into his belt and tugged him close, “If that is what you desire, little wolf, I will oblige.”

Faolán’s brain simply ceased to work and possibly exist for several moments. Loki feared she had pushed him too far. So she gently patted his cheek, bringing the warrior back to his senses. “Um,” he took a step backwards to free himself from the princesses' temptation, “Did you find the answers you were looking for?”

Loki took mercy on him, “No, it is probably nothing. There are cases of people being more resistant to magic. It is probable that is the answer.”

Faolán had not heard of anything like that, “It would also explain your lack of affinity towards any magic.”

“That’s a pity,” Faolán sighed, watching as Loki vanished the training sword with a simple gesture. She made it look so easy.

“Oh? You would be interested in learning?” Loki asked surprised, then again, should she be? Hadn’t they had this conversation before?

“It’s an advantageous skill to have in combination with my combative skills,” He said with a simple shrug.

Loki kissed him, leaving him breathless and wanting more but a loud crash forced them apart, Thor and his friends had arrived. “I bring good news!” he announced, tossing his helmet aside. Did he ever use his helmet outside of ceremonies? Faolán pondered. “Your trail draws to a close tomorrow, bringing a swift end to all this slander!”

“That is not good news,” Loki said, “In fact, that is confusing news. Why would the trail suddenly conclude?”

“Because they came to their senses and realised that Faolán is a warrior we need in our armies?”

“Just this morning they were debating whether Volstagg’s reasons for bringing additional food rations was a good idea. How did they go from a debate that has been raging for a week to a conclusion?” Loki asked.

“I don’t know, but one way or another we shall have our answer by tomorrow,” Thor however quickly realised that not everyone in the room thought that was good thing, Faolán struggled to understand how this might be a good thing.

In fact, if he were honest (which he was) he assumed it was a terrible indicator of what was to come. Days spent preparing his defence down the drain. Fuck. Fucking fuck!

He decided he was screwed.

* * *

* * *

Tugging at his sleeves, Faolán swore he could hear the mocking thoughts of Lord Fjarki. It wasn’t as though Faolán was poor. He had separated his banking account from the family savings centuries ago, but that did not mean he so freely spent his money as others insisted he should. Growing up, learning to fix his own clothes had left their mark.

Normally he wouldn’t care, he would go about his day and ignore the Lord Fjarki, but today was rather important and Faolán had too many stressors building on top of one another. So this once he allowed Fjarki and his mocking gaze get beneath his skin.

“I thought you were calm and prepared?” Otmar asked Faolán. It worried him that the warrior was going to pick apart his tunic if he tugged at the frayed cuffs for much longer.

He had been awake long before a reasonable hour trying to remember the speeches he had written, then proceeded to tear apart in frustration and panic. There was no way this was a good thing. Panic festered within him.

“I was, but then…” they glanced to towards the other side of the hall where everyone had gathered. There stood both his parents. He could face down his mother easily (or that is what he told himself), his father… well, it was a shock that he was sober enough to stand on his day off. “He’s completely sober,” the warrior pointed out to his friend.

“Oh your fucked,” Otmar muttered and Faolán couldn’t help but agree, which didn’t help. He hoped Otmar would find a glimmer of optimism, but his father being stone cold sober was as rare as surviving a black-hole.

Whether or not it was right, it didn’t matter, but Faolán’s father still held influence from a time when he was good at his job, when he cared with a passion that a young Faolán admired. Now he barely functioned outside of work, his entire life was work. If Faolán’s parents ever married for love, he never saw it.

“Having Prince Thor speak on your behalf will help,” Otmar reassured Faolán who lost confidence the moment he locked eyes with his father. How was he to function like this? “How did you persuade him?”

Well, he didn’t did he? That was the princes meddling, more so Loki than Thor or maybe they both conspired together? But he couldn’t say that to Otmar, nor did he want to lie to his friend.

Thankfully Otmar grinned and said, “Bet you wish it were the other one,” with a wicked wink, yep that was the Otmar he needed now, the one that could and would distract him.

“I’ll burn that beard of yours,” Faolán flushed, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“You would never commit such a blasphemous act,” Otmar waggled his eyebrows at Faolán who snorted, one disappointed glare from a Lady he barely knew made him duck his head and turn away ashamed, “You never know you if you ask him nicely he might even let you have his babies! Or I suppose he could have your babies, say do you think he could get pregnant as a man?”

“What the fuck?”

“Well, think about it?”

“I’d rather not,”

“Why not you like all bits? Imagine he looks like a man but he’s gone woman bits, or woman and man bits,”

“Or no bits?” Faolán found the change in Otmar hilarious. Before his kid came along he did not censor himself with terms like ‘bits’ now he did it automatically. It never failed to make everyone laugh.

“Yeah, well, if I could get pregnant I’d happily let you have a crack at givin’ me a kid,” Otmar joked.

Faolán wanted out of this conversation now, unfortunately for him the princes just so happened to be approaching them.

“And here I was worried you had allowed the stress of the trail to overwhelm you,” Thor laughed, it was gratifying to see Otmar freeze as well, Faolán however couldn’t meet either of the prince’s eye.

“We’d make beautiful babies,” Otmar recovered with a huge grin as he turned to Thor, he was better at dealing with embarrassing situations, “My beard and his… everything else, every man woman and in-between would what our kid as their spouse.”

“I think I’ll just let Heimdall toss me into Niflheim now to save everyone the bother,” Faolán muttered, realising that the princes probably heard their entire conversation, which made his embarrassment even worse.

“It is a good beard,” Thor hummed with amusement.

“This your highness is the greatest beard in the army!” Otmar pronounced.

“I would suggest General Týr’s beard more magnificent,”

“It was until it got burnt off by a dragon last weekend, I have claimed the title for my own,” Otmar beamed proudly, “Faolán tell the princes how this beard saved your life!”

But Faolán wasn’t paying attention to the conversation any more, what he was paying attention to was his father speaking with Lord Fjarki. The pair of them laughed at something. They were confident in their shared victory, so they had something to use against him?

What could they have that… oh, no, they couldn’t know, could they? It wasn’t as though his sexuality was illegal, just… socially distasteful in certain circles, mostly the ones that controlled what was acceptable or not. That might sway the courts against him, if they had proof. Proof could come in the guise of former lovers, but then they would have to out themselves.

Or was it is his odd ability to communicate with animals? Even Loki could not fathom why Faolán had this ability, he was no shapeshifter nor god, so why would he have this most bizarre power?

On the other hand, it might be because of his–“Faolán,” Otmar shook him, “I know you’re worried, but it’ll be fine.”

“Don’t lie,” Faolán said, standing up. His hands shook a little as the nerves continued to build up.

“Well, it will be fine, if you’re found guilty you can stay with me until you figure out what to do with your life,” Otmar grinned, but Faolán wasn’t too sure about that, though he appreciated the offer. “But that’s not going to happen, _is it_?”

“We’ll see,” Faolán said as all together they were summoned into the courtroom. Otmar patted his back, and Faolán felt his nerves grow worse. He convinced himself the loss was inevitable.

Standing in the courts, he listened as people spoke out against him, people he had never met or known. People who claimed that he was not as great or as glorious as others wanted the courts to know. This did not bother him, what bothered him, his father standing before the courts to testify against him.

“I understand Faolán has cultivated himself a loyal group of friends, who somehow swayed the opinion of Prince Thor, but it does not suit my son to be a captain,” Ulrich loudly declared to the courts.

The woman presiding over this court today leaned back in her chair that was a throne in all but name and asked, “What proof would you have to back up these claims of unsuitability against your own Son? General Týr and two commanders all spoke highly of Faolán, Prince Thor was not the only one in a position of power to support your son.”

“True, however, if they knew what I knew about my son they would not be so quick to support him,” Ulrich announced to the entire room.

“Are you speaking of his unusual ability to communicate with animals?” The judge asked, clearly bored or annoyed by this entire farce.

Ulrich tensed, his face distorting into disgust, “No I am not, for such a useless skill has no influence over anything.”

“Except the animals he would communicate with, I suppose?” The judge offered, which earned a chuckle from some of those sitting and watching the trial unfold. “Continue,” The judge sighed.

“I am speaking of course my sons frequent dalliances with men,” Ulrich’s face twisted into disgust and despair, he pitied and hated his son in equal measure for his preferences.

Faolán didn’t know how his father could know. Perhaps he was lying, perhaps he knew the truth? People said you couldn’t truly keep secrets from your parents, and Faolán was now running over every crush and kiss he had had when young and living with his parents, attempting to understand how, how his father could have known.

He couldn’t even look at his father, nor at anyone else. Instead, his mind was cluttered with questions about how his father could have known his secret.

“Who doesn’t like something up their arse once in a while,” The judge sighed, slapping down a stack of papers onto the table beside her. Several heads turned to her stunned, Faolán could hear Otmar rumbling with laughter and others as well. “I hope you have something more meaningful than the petty snipes from Signar’s friends and your hatred of your own son.”

“I-I, Judge, you cannot expect men to follow an Argr warrior into battle, our enemies-”

“Will not care as the opinions of our enemies–should they somehow know of Faolán’s preferences–matter,” she argued sounding tired, “Let us be clear I entertained this farce on the grounds that Faolán admitted to some fault, he had not performed what I assumed was a routine secondary check?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Faolán answered when addressing the judge, keeping perfect posture was like they trained him to do, “If I had conducted a secondary inspection of our supply carts to ensure that nobody had sneaked something unchecked onto the cart we would not have lost our supplies. Unfortunately, I allowed myself to be distracted that day, which resulted in the loss of food and bedding supplies.”

“So on one hand Faolán has the support of three dozen Einherjar, two commanders, three captain, one general and Prince Thor. All of whom were polite enough to supply me with written accounts of his character along with dates that when cross-referenced with the military archives backs up their claims,” The judge said, leaning forward in her seat.

“Then I have Signar and his supporters, many of whom have never looked at a sword, much less picked one up. Though my opinions on _who_ should replace Captain Eldór do not matter. I would suggest that it is better that Faolán is given the title over someone who sought to bribe me this morning with silks and candies,” The judge glared in Signar’s direction, the man sat up in his seat caught unawares and left reeling.

“This entire political farce has eaten up too much time and attention, so I am drawing a line in the sand and declaring that Lord Faolán Ulrichsson is innocent of his crimes and you all may now leave,” she said.

Ulrich annoyed approached the judge, “You cannot be so informal-”

“-I was personally assigned to this case by the Allfather because it was a farce. If you deem the Allfathers judgement wrong, you are free to take your challenge to him,” The judge stood up.

“Of course not, however, it seems improper to dismiss such a grievous-”

“-Oh, for fuck’s sake, did anyone die or suffer? No, because in the varied reports it is stated that Faolán went above and beyond to ensure that the royal party were well stocked with food and drink _after_ the event. For his troubles he suffered rime rot and therefore I have no reason to add further punishment to his already considerable load,” she barked at Ulrich who took a tentative step backwards frustrated that she did not see his way of thinking.

“To be quite frank, I do not understand why you hate your son so much that you would do this,” She sat herself back down, “But none of that matters go! And do not waste more of my time! **NEXT JUDGEMENT**!!!,” she yelled to the guards.

It wasn’t just Ulrich that was left confused, Faolán didn’t know how to react or what to do because he had been found innocent in the strangest way possible. Then the next group hadn’t even settled before she announced the woman guilty of killing the goat and should compensate the traumatised girl in question and urged the next judgement to be called all before Otmar could shove him out of the doors.

“What just happened?”

“That’s Lady Jökla,” Otmar shrugged, “She cuts through the bullshit, you’ve never had her on one of your cases?”

“No, usually it’s Lady Nótt,” Faolán answered, confused about this whole thing, “I’m more used to trails taking weeks or months.”

“Now I know why you don’t enjoy going out on investigations,” Otmar huffed, “Good thing she’s retiring soon. So, what now?”

“Go to Commander Diðrik so that he can reinstate me,” Faolán said, watching his father leave with an irate Signar who was seething along with his father and friends. “They’re going to contest the verdict, aren’t they?”

“Yep,” Otmar agreed, “But you have bigger issues, everyone knows you occasionally like to chug a dick, is it possible to chug a dick? I suppose it’s like choking on a dick but not so messy?”

Faolán walked away trying not to laugh, whether with relief or nerves he was certain the reality had not yet set in.

* * *

* * *

With his status as an Einherjar reinstated, he was now coming back to reality and reality was a rather inhospitable place. Most people didn’t care about his preferences until they were forced to take a side, he dreaded if that would happen. He could defend himself physically, but mentally? He didn’t know.

So here he was, training once again, trying to work the stress from his body. He had proven himself in terms of combative skill, strength, knowledge both in and out of battle, his morals until today had been unquestioned and he had worked hard to ensure he did what he could for those around him.

But that could all be undone if Signar rallied enough people around him, using his preferences as an excuse to gain influence and power. He swung his spear until exhaustion burned within his arms, each step and movement of his routine as familiar as the passing of time or the back of his hand.

Tonight he faltered, stumbling over his own feet until he got back on track once more before resuming his steps. It was only a matter of time; he supposed. Until then, he would just continue with his life. At the start of the next week, he would resume his duties and hopefully get back to his old life.

He didn’t want to get his old life back, he quite enjoyed his current life, but that could all be over now, couldn’t it?

A voice in the back of his head suggested he should have celebrated with Otmar instead, get so drunk he would not remember the day and wake up tomorrow with the most wicked hang over.

The issue was he wasn’t in the mood to get drunk and forget; he wasn’t in the mood for much except misery and confusion. Both were easy enough to give into.

“If your expression becomes much more serious it may turn to stone,” Faolán sighed of course Loki would show up, why wouldn’t he? The warrior gave up and replaced his spear on the rack, “I will have to assume that you were in fact worried about today's trail, or rather whatever that was, it clearly was not a trail.”

At least it wasn’t a trail that Loki was familiar with. He knew that Asgard’s judges varied widely in their styles. Some took the method of the Vanir and applied to Asgard, others just wanted to make things simple as possible even if it was more detrimental to the cases presented.

“Otmar reassures me that Lady Jökla is often like that, though today seemed a bad day for her,” Faolán explained, still worried. He worried when given too much time to think. He was used to worrying about everything.

“Hm, but that is not the root of your worry, is it little wolf?” Loki asked him.

The prince lead Faolán away from the rings and towards the fence where a huge barrier protected the space from the winter outdoors. In the summer they dropped the barriers to allow the heat out of these grounds and the air to circulate.

They silenced the view of the huge waterfall cascading down a mountainside before crashing into a lake thanks to the barrier put in place. In, the middle of winter the sight was still incredible, though nobody had the time or patience to appreciate it when in this place.

“No, no it is not,” He admitted, afraid to say too much, “I had assumed that my father remained ignorant to my… preferences.”

“Surely you could not believe such an obvious thing would go unnoticed by your parents? What would they say when you invited men to your home?”

“I didn’t invite anyone to my family home, I… moved into the barracks the moment I earned my place in the Einherjar, your highness,” Faolán said annoyed at himself for not realising it sooner. How could he have not known? Better yet, how had his father not hurled out this truth as an insult when drunk?

“Nobody?” Loki asked.

“Nobody, I barely spent any time in my home. Only when I was sick with the cold of winter or injured,” He said thinking back on it.

“Where did you spend your time?” Loki asked, horrified by the very idea.

“The schools and libraries would allow me to stay until evening some days, failing that I would run errands around the city to make money or spend my time in the grounds of my estate or the wilderness. On the hotter days I would sleep outside, usually in my tree house or in a tree. I learnt how to fish, hunt even grow berries and vegetables,” he chuckled remembering the good times missing how Loki’s expression warred between several emotions.

“I even had this secret vegetable garden the rabbits agreed not to eat in exchange for food. A bear taught me how to catch salmon and did you know you can tickle trout to catch them?” Faolán asked, turning to the prince and sighing, “Though I suppose it’s all gone now. I miss having a garden.”

It was the first sign of grief Faolán had shown towards his childhood, and Loki understood. That garden may have been Faolán's method of escape to cope with parents who were neither interested in him nor wanted him.

The prince was lucky; he had always had Frigga and Thor to love and want him. Imagining a life without either of them made an icy dread bubble deep within his gut. How would his life have altered had he not had them to depend upon?

“You could live in your own home provided to you by the royal house,” Loki pointed out, trying to keep things pleasant.

“Should I become captain I will, until then I will keep saving my money,” Faolán said, though he would be the first to admit he couldn’t quite remember what he was saving his money for now that he had complete control over his finances. Some habits were just hard to break.

“Is that why you are wearing this old tunic?” Loki asked, running his thumb along stitching that had faded or come undone in the years Faolán had owned this tunic.

“It might be old, but it’s still serviceable,” Faolán argued, which hurt Loki deep inside that place where his soul met his impeccable sense of fashion.

The prince did not pry about Faolán’s money situation; he assumed with how frugal the man was living (and knowing how much they paid the Einherjar) he should have amassed a small fortune over the centuries, but he still wondered what compelled Faolán to live so simply.

“It is by good fortune then that you shall be named captain and given your new armour before the winter festival,” Loki argued, inspecting the damage done to Faolán's cuff. The cuff had been repaired so many times it was hard to tell which was the original stitching and which was the repairs.

Unable to help himself, Faolán smiled, enjoying the praise, though he knew it was still up for debate whether he would get the captaincy. Steadying his breathing, he tried to clear his cluttered thoughts.

“Assuming I become captain,” Faolán muttered that worry returning, there was so much that could go wrong and his sexuality being outed would not help matters. He could already picture his furious father and mother scheming with Signar.

Loki intertwined his fingers with Faolán's, “Should our commanders and captains not realise you are the perfect candidate, I shall have to question their collective intelligence.”

“At that point I would just simply assume that politics were the reason I was not promoted to the position,” Faolán said, no longer wishing to discuss this topic, “How is the dress proceeding?” Faolán asked.

“Quite well, though that should be no surprise,” Loki said, running the pad of his thumb along the knuckles of Faolán's left hand, “You should rest instead of exhausting yourself.”

“I don’t need rest,” Faolán argued, squeezing Loki’s fingers before separating from the prince, “I need distraction and training is the perfect distraction.”

Grabbing his wrist Loki pulled the warrior back into him, “I have a much better method of distraction,” he purred and once more Faolán was tempted to take the prince up on his offer, but he held back worried.

Faolán was convinced that once he slept with Loki, the prince would discard him done. He wanted to cling to whatever this was for as long as he could. It was a stupid and potentially dangerous fantasy, but he liked to imagine the younger prince cared about him in the same way.

Internally cursing when people arrived in the training halls, Faolán pulled away. There seemed little point in trying to hide his sexuality now, but if someone caught him with the prince, it wouldn’t just be his bid for the captaincy called into question.

Loki had vanished. It was as though he was never there. Maybe he never was, and that had simply been an illusion. “ _Fuck_ ,” he whispered as he left the space so that the rookies could have their privacy.

It wasn’t like he had many people to talk to this about, in fact he might only have one person he truly trusted to keep quiet about whatever this was with Loki. But Otmar would have his family to be with. Any moment to take with family when you weren’t on duty was precious in Otmar’s eyes. Faolán would not disrupt that for anything.

“It troubles me you so easily swayed the courts in your favour,” Faolán stopped in his tracks.

“You’re still sober,” Faolán greeted his father who had made himself known, “Do you and mother lie in wait in the palace to berate me?”

That might explain a lot.

“As if we would waste so much time on you,” Ulrich responded, narrowing his eyes at his own son.

“Yet here you are cutting into your drinking time father, it must be serious,” Faolán said.

Once Ulrich had been a good man, an outstanding warrior, not a brilliant warrior, at least according to the old guard who were slowly being shuffled and tidied into their graves. Faolán had never known that man, and if he had, he must have been very young to have forgotten such a time.

He never understood why his father would become the disaster that currently stood in front of him. Though the lure of drink and procrastination had ruined many lives in Asgard. Perhaps that’s all it was, drinking to forget the horrors of war and battle until drinking becomes a daily routine.

Bathed in the light of the cold winter’s evening, the hallways never seemed so lonely as they were right now.

“You appreciated nothing given to you,” Ulrich said, “Always wanting more, wanting what was beyond your grasp.”

“Given me, when have you or mother given me anything?” Faolán demanded to know because he would like to know. He would want to know that there might have been a chance even for a short time back when they had been wonderful parents.

“Selfish, you are always so selfish,” Ulrich sighed so dramatically it was a wonder he did not faint, “You never appreciated what we did for you.”

Again Ulrich had done nothing for his son, Faolán tried hard to shake some memories loose to prove that his father was right. That there had been good times, times when they were a happy, healthy family full of love and trust. But he found nothing.

“Why do you hate me?” Faolán asked.

“Your mother and I do not hate you, we love you,” Ulrich’s answer sickened Faolán.

“Love makes you happy, it makes you want to be with those that you care for, it makes you feel safe and secure-”

“-What nonsense, that is shit you read in stories, genuine love is hard work, it is suffering for the good times, it is-”

“That is not love,” Faolán insisted. He should know he had been in love once or twice before, it was never anything like his childhood. Whatever his parents had shown him wasn’t love.

He walked away, feeling there was no point in continuing this discussion. The less time they spent together, the happier the both of them will be. It said a lot that his father did not even try to stop him from leaving. No doubt Ulrich would forget all about this conversation soon. He could never stay away from the taverns too long.

* * *

* * *

“Did you hear? Prince Loki managed to get his hands on enough winter spider silk to construct a dress, _real silk_ , not that artificial sort!!” A lady whispered in a hushed tone, ignoring the Einherjar that were standing guarding the halls.

Faolán had forgotten how invisible the armour had made him to the people of Asgard. It was good to be back at work but Norns he had actually gotten used to people noticing him.

“Oh, I wonder how Princess Ulrika will respond?” a second Lady in a plum and silver dress giggled, “Though it is her fault for choosing green, Norns what was that girl thinking?”

He had also forgotten how boring being stuck patrolling the palace was. Thankfully, Röskvi was due to appear and relieve him of his duties for the day. On cue, the man arrived looking sheepish. He was a few minutes late but Faolán did not mind, these things happened. He was just glad that he completed his duties for the day.

Bidding goodbye to Röskvi, Faolán considered what he might do next. Food and a shower would be a good start, and not in that order. Before he could reach the bottom of the staircase, his helmet grew heavier and shifted with the wait of someone or something pushing on the… things on top of the helmet.

Nobody knew why there was a thin and whatever the broken circlet was, and at this point nobody dared ask Odin, they just stayed there adding needless additional weight.

⸢ _Food please, Food please!!_ ⸥ Hvítingr flapped her wings.

“I do not have any food on my persons,” Faolán explained to the raven, who hopped down onto his shoulder to peck at his shoulder, but now he was armoured. It left the raven frustrated.

“I wonder how she could tell you out from the crowd,” Otmar said, returning from his own patrol far more bored than Faolán, who had the excitement of guarding a busy hall unlike him.

“She’s a brilliant raven,” Faolán smiled, rubbing her feathery cheek.

⸢ _Yes I am!_ ⸥ she preened, ⸢ _Food please!!_ ⸥

“I’m not carrying any food on my persons,” Faolán said, rubbing the raven’s chest. She could not be convinced he wasn’t carrying some sort of treats and nipped at the soft fabric between the joints in his armoured gloves.

“She’s worse than my kid,” Otmar laughed, watching the raven pester Faolán. She discovered if she tapped on his helmet, he would pay more attention to her.

“Hvítingr!” Loki called to the white raven, surprised to find her taking an interest in the guards until said guard turned to him and he realised Faolán was the guard in question. She tapped her beak against his helmet furiously, trying to get Faolán to pay attention to her.

“She claims to be hungry,” Faolán explained to Loki while she stood on his shoulder, ruffling her snow-white feathers at everyone. She was very excited to show off her glorious new plumage. Faolán knew Hvítingr by now. He knew she would claim to be starving after filling her belly with snacks.

Loki sighed, “She always seeks food, I think it is time I invented some new challenges for her to solve.”

“You could try to make her work for her food,” Faolán offered.

Hvítingr did not like that idea. She pecked at his metal faceplate. These helmets were very inconvenient for an annoyed bird!!

“I do not doubt that would solve many a problem. The issue is motivating her to do such a thing,” Loki said, reaching over to rub the raven’s chest she proudly stuck out her glorious new feathers.

Otmar glanced to Faolán, then to Prince Loki. Something was going on and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Not because he was against same-sex relations, dwarven culture did not give a fuck about any of that nonsense unlike the Aesir, but because he was certain that in the end Loki would break Faolán's heart. Nobody broke Faolán's heart on his watch.

Convinced to leave Faolán Hvítingr hopped onto Loki’s forearm, “I should leave unless you wish to distract me from my duties some more?” he asked the raven.

She considered him not understanding, so she turned to Faolán, “Stop being a pest,” He translated.

⸢ _I am no pest!!_ ⸥ she said, making herself as big as possible before cawing at him. He grinned, rubbing the top of her head.

“I know, but try not to fly off, okay?” he asked. She considered the warrior, then agreed, “Good girl,” he smiled, giving her head one last itch before the prince departed.

The second he was out of earshot, Otmar grabbed Faolán and pulled him down to his level. Given that Otmar vastly preferred the open faced helmet for the sake of his glorious beard, it was easy for Faolán was suspicious. Thankfully Faolán wore a closed faced helmet providing him protection from Otmar who could read him better than anyone else in Asgard.

“Are you fuckin’ the prince?”

“No,”

“But you want to?”

“That should not be news to you,” Faolán pointed out.

“Well, no, it’s not, but why’s the prince suddenly so interested in _you_?” Otmar asked quietly, “You suckin’ his cock?”

“No,”

“But you want to?”

“Yes, because unlike you, I do not need to stand on a box to suck someone’s cock,” Faolán said, pulling himself out of Otmar’s grip.

“Ha fucking Ha, I’m the perfect height for sucking cocks without all that kneeling shit you have to do,” Otmar said, which only made Faolán laugh, “Not that I would! That’s not my thing, this mouth is for my wife’s pleasure only!”

“And eating one would presume?” Faolán laughed harder.

“Eating her out,” he waggled his bushy brows at Faolán, who only laughed harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments that you might have will be nice! Thanks again for reading! 
> 
> [Loki Bingo](https://lokibingo.tumblr.com/) | [My Tumblr](https://void-knights.tumblr.com/)


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